I  TOLD  YOU   SO; 


OR, 


BEING 

PASSAGES    FROM    A    LIFE    NOW    PROGRESS- 
ING  IN  THE  CITY   OF   BOSTON, 


AN  INTEREST  IN  WHICH  IS  NOT  EXCITED  SIMPLY 

BECAUSE    FOUNDED   ON   FACT,   BUT  THAT 

THE  INCIDENTS   THEREIN   RELATED 

ARE   THEMSELVES  THE  FACTS. 


BY 

MRS.  T.  NARCISSE  DOUTNEY. 


'And  though  calamities  have  crossed  thee ; 
And  misery  been  heaped  on  thy  head." 


Illustrated 


SOLD  BY  SUBSCRIPTION  ONLY. 
1873- 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873, 

BY   HARRIET   G.   STOKER, 
in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington 


go 

THE  FRIENDS; 

WHO,  IN  THE  SPIRIT  OF  HUMANITY  AND  KINDNESS, 
EXTENDED  TO  ME  IN  MY  DARKEST  HOUR 

MATERIAL  AID; 

AND    WHAT     IS     FAR     MORE    DELICATE    AND    RARE, 

HEARTFELT    SYMPATHY; 

AND 

TO  THE  PUBLIC; 

WITH  THE  HOPE  THAT  THIS  FEARFUL   EXPOSE    OF    DISSIPATION, 

AS  fORTRAYBD  IN  THE  PHASE  OF  DRINK,   MAY  ADD  ITS  MITE  TOWARDS  TH« 

ERECTION  OF  A  BARRIER  MIGHTY  TO  STAY  THE  TIDE  OF 

INTEMPERANCE 

ROLLING  OVER  THE  LAND  ;  AND  DESTROYING  IN  ITS 
RESISTLESS  COURSE  THE  FAIREST  BULWARK, 

OUR  YOUNG  MEN, 

Cf)fs  Uoofc, 

WITH  THE  COMPLIMENTS  OF  THE  AUTHOR, 

IS  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED. 


i  2051308 


CONTENTS. 


PAG8 

INTRODUCTION 7 

CHAPTER 

I.   I  AM  BORN '.II 

II.  I  AM  A  BABY 15 

III.  I  AM  A  CHILD .18 

IV.  MY  GIRLHOOD 23 

V.  THE  CIRCUS 29 

VI.  THE  TWICE  ELOPED  ....  •  39 

VII.  I  AM  A  WIFE 46 

VIII.  A  PRESENTIMENT 51 

IX.  I  AM  A  WIDOW 56 

X.  MY  EVIL  GENIUS 63 

XI.  FROM  GOOD  TO  BAD 72 

XII.  THE  QUIET  TOWN  OF  L ....  78 

XIII.  THE  FATES 83 

XIV.  LA  MAISON  DE  MAUVAISE  FAME      ...  89 
XV.  ST.  Louis 99 

XVI.  "THE  ISABEL"   .......        104 

XVII.  ANITA 109 

XVIII.  THE  CAPTAIN'S  CLERK 114 

XIX.  THE  GRAND  ITALIAN  OPERA       .       .       .       .118 

XX.  L'INCONNU 123 

XXI.  AN  INTERVIEW 131 


vi  CONTENTS. 

XXII.  WALTER  .                  r'^      ..  134 

XXIII.  THE  LETTER 13  7 

XXIV.  THE  HONEYMOON  .        .        .     •  .        .        .  142 
XXV.  MY  CREED .  147 

XXVI.  BOSTON'S  FEMALE  BROKER    .       .       .  151 

XXVII.  OLLA  PODRIDA 158 

XXVIII.  PANDEMONIUM 168 

XXIX.  INFERNO .        .176 

XXX.  THE  HEGIRA  .......  185 

XXXI.  THE  GRAND  FINALE 194 

XXXII.  RESURGAM 199 

XXXIII.  THE  CANAL  STREET  PAWN  SHOP    .       .        .  201 

XXXIV.  BOOK  AGENTS  WANTED 213 

XXXV.  THE  "  HUB  "      .        .        .       .       .  227 

XXXVI.  THE  RECEPTION 233 

XXXVII.  "OUR  LORD'S  PRAYER" 238 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  first  time  I  heard  Anna  Dickinson 
speak,  she  stated  that  she  had  known  pov- 
erty. 

The  time  had  been  she  was  not  able  to 
buy  a  pair  of  gloves  worth  one  shilling ;  that 
she  had  worked  hard,  and  yet  was  poor. 

She  had  decided  it  would  be  more  profit- 
able to  give  a  poor  lecture  than  receive 
poor  pay. 

I  indorse  her  decision ;  and  write  a  poor 
book,  because  of  the  very  same  reason, — 
poor  pay. 

Byron,  by  force  of  inspiration,  wrote  his 
"  Bride  of  Abydos  "  in  one  night. 

I,  by  force  of  poverty,  write  my  book  in 
one  week. 


g  INTRODUCTION. 

He  wrote  for  fame  ! 
I  write  to  pay  my  board. 
His  motive  was  the  more  elevated ! 
Mine,  the  more  urgent. 
Yes,  —  I  am  poor ;  worse  still,  —  I  am  in 
debt.    I  owe  — 

"  The  butcher,  the  baker, 
The  candlestick  maker,"  — 

and  see  no  way  of  canceling  my  indebted- 
ness. 

Everything  I  own  in  the  world  is  at, the 
pawnbroker's,  —  my  watch,  my  brooch,  my 
wedding-ring ;  and  I  see  no  way  of  redeem- 
ing them. 

The  spot  on  earth  most  sacred  has  passed 
into  the  hands  of  strangers. 

Others  walk  the  halls,  enjoy  the  grounds, 
bury  their  dead ;  where  my  feet  once  trod, 
my  eyes  once  feasted,  my  dead  once  reposed. 

Reduced  thus  from  affluence  to  poverty ; 
alone,  dwelling  upon  these  things ;  I  deter- 
mine in  some  way  to  recover  the  lost. 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

Behold  the  reason  why  I  write  a  book ! 

That  it  will  be  sensational,  is  not  my 
fault ;  my  life  has  been  one  long  sensation. 

That,  "#  la  Trollope"  it  will  have  its 
white  and  its  black  marks,  is  not  my  fault ; 
some  people  are  white,  others  black. 

Unknown  to  friend  or  foe,  I  launch  this 
manuscript  upon  the  sea  of  literature  ;  alike 
indifferent,  whether  the  frail  bark  outrides 
the  storm,  or  founders  in  sight,  so  that  the 
purchase  money,  borne  by  the  retreating 
wave,  be  washed  to  my  feet. 

BOSTON,  1873. 


AN   AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
CHAPTER   I. 

I   AM    BORN. 

"  Queen  of  the  sisters  twelve,  Imperial  June  1 " 
"  And  a  babe  was  cradled  in  her  bosom." 

ALL  hail !  beautiful  June !  month  of  roses ; 
and  of  skies,  whose  blue  arch,  bending,  lov- 
ingly embraces  the  fragrant  earth,  as  bride- 
groom fyis  beloved  bride. 

Beautiful  June  1  in  whose  long,  delicious 
days,  summer  arrives  at  the  perfection  of 
her  charms;  whose  gentle  airs,  enameled 
fields,  running  streams ;  revive  the  invalid, 
delight  the  child,  while  the  hours  of  Na- 
ture's lover. 


12  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Upon  the  sixteenth  day  of  thy  month,  O 
beautiful  June !  I  was  born  ! 

About  four  miles  from  the  seaport  of 

B is  the  large,  agricultural  town  of 

W . 

Its  inhabitants  are  mostly  tillers  of  the 
ground.  Still,  the  quiet  beauty  of  the  place, 
together  with  its  reputed  healthfulness,  in- 
duced a  few  men  of  means  and  education  to 
locate  themselves  there,  and  engage  in  ama- 
teur farming. 

Earliest  among  these,  of  Puritan  stock, 
both  military  and  civic  honors  making  his 
own  name  distinguished,  came  my  maternal 
grandfather,  Judge  H . 

Although  a  gentleman,  and  companion 
of  the  learned,  he  soon  ingratiated  himself 
with  his  more  lowly  neighbors ;  securing  at 
the  same  time,  their  respect  and  sincere  re- 
gard. So  well,  too,  and  profitably,  he  man- 
aged his  lands,  that  by  degrees  his  opinion 
became  their  law. 


I  AM  BORN.  1 3 

from  the  main  road,  upon  rising 
ground,  stood  the  old-fashioned  family  man- 
sion; completely  embosomed  in  roses,  the 
place  was  familiarly  known  as  "  Rose  Hill." 

Three  daughters  graced  this  pleasant 
home.  The  youngest,  the  fairest,  met ;  and 
—  true  to  her  romantic  nature  —  loved  a 
wild  but  generous-hearted  seaman.  Against 
the  judgment  of  her  father,  she  persisted  in 
marrying  the  youthful  Captain. 

If  ever  there  was  a  love  match,  they 
made  one. 

Though  separation,  incident  to  his  pro- 
fession, and  sorrow,  were  mingled  in  their 
cup  ;  neither  —  to  the  hour  when  the  waters 
closed  over  the  form  of  the  idolized  hus- 
band—  had  cause  to  regret  their  union. 

I  was  their  first  child. 

The  preparation  that  heralded  my  advent, 
I  have  been  told,  was  wonderful.  Such  em- 
broidery !  such  laces !  such  trimming !  such 
tucking !  and  all  the  Liliputian  trousseau^ 


14  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

the  work  of  loving  fingers  and  a  loving 
heart;  indulging,  as  each  small  garment 
was  shaped,  hopes  and  anticipations,  as 
only  the  prospect  of  a  first  babe  can  in- 
spire. 

At  length  the  long-expected  time  arrived. 

After  hours  of  agony,  which  almost  cost 
the  young  mother  her  life ;  at  the  close  of 
a  quiet  Sabbath,  just  as  the  sun's  last  rays 
glorified  tree  and  flower,  welcomed  with 
smiles  and  prayers,  upon  the  sixteenth  day 
of  thy  month,  O  beautiful  June !  I  was 
born! 


CHAPTER  II. 

I    AM    A    BABY. 
"  A  babe  in  a  house  is  a  well-spring  of  pleasure." 

MOST  infants  are  lovely  only  in  mother's 
and  nurse's  eyes.  But  it  has  come  down, 
that  —  skipping  over  the  flabby,  lobster  pe- 
riod —  I  presented  to  admiring  friends  the 
grateful  spectacle  of  a  rosy,  live  baby ;  who, 
with,  large,  wondering  eyes,  looked  the  world 

—  into  which  it  had  such  difficulty  entering 

—  full  in  the  face. 

Could  I  have  foreseen  what  she  would 
have  given  in  answer  to  that  appealing  look, 
I  would  resolutely,  then  and  there,  have  shut 
mine  eyes  upon  her  forever. 

That  was  not  to  be. 

I  was  to  see  life  ;  and  through  the  seeing, 
find  my  happiness,  and  —  my  misery. 


1 6  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

A  chance  neighbor,  studying  my  youth- 
ful orbs,  impressed  with  the  idea  that  I 
should  probably  find  a  use  for  them,  mean- 
ingly remarked :  "  Well !  she's  got  eyes, 
ain't  she  ? " 

My  father,  swelling  with  pride,  assented  ; 
adding,  "  The  child  seems  six  months  old  ! " 

A  disputed  mark  upon  my  tiny  fore-fin- 
ger, was  settled  by  my  mother  declaring 
it  to  be  strawberries ;  and  the  subject  still 
further  clinched  by  my  devouring,  of  that 
delicious  fruit,  nearly  a  cupful  when  three 
days  old. 

This  feat,  together  with  my  observant 
eyes,  secured  an  infantile  fame ;  and  many 
was  the  gossip  who  came  to  look  at  the 
cup,  and  gaze  upon  me. 

Of  one  heaven-given  right  I  was  de- 
prived. 

I  never  lay  in  maternal  arms  drawing 
sustenance  from  its  natural  source,  my 
mother's  fair  breast. 


I  AM  A  BABY.  lj 

The  suffering  incident  to  giving  me  birth 
was  too  intense,  and  too  prolonged,  to  allow 
of  one  other  effort  in  my  behalf. 

Nature  avenged  herself! 

I  was  the  victim  ! 

Still,  I  throve.  To  compensate,  A  BOTTLE, 
emblem  of  my  lost  happiness,  was  placed  in 
my  puny  grasp ;  and  immediately  became 
my  constant  companion. 

Looking  back,  I  am  free  to  say,  that, 
could  I  have  anticipated,  I  should  have 
adopted  it  on  the  spot  as  my  future  COAT 
OF  ARMS. 

I  think  it  would  have  been  pleasant  *to 
have  enjeyed  evermore  this  purely  physical 
state  of  existence  ;  holding  on  to  the  "  em- 
blem "  until  full,  then  sinking  off  into  the 
sleep  of  the  innocent 

But  Fate  had  other  —  any  better  ?  — • 
things  in  store  for  me  ;  and  Time,  leagued 
»vith  Fate,  ignoring  my  private  wishes,  car 
ried  me  out  of  babyhood  into  childhood. 


CHAPTER  III, 

I    AM    A   CHILD. 

"  For  a  child  is  in  a  new  world,  and  learneth  somewhat  every 
moment." 

I  AM  afraid  Fear  was  a  little  too  indis- 
criminately mingled  with  the  motive  power 
of  my  earlier  years,  to  have  allowed  their 
being  perfectly  happy. 

I  learned  to  walk  through  the  base  mo- 
tive! 

I  took  my  first  step  in  mortal  fear ! 

At  the  house  of  a  friend,  answering  some 
summons,  a  darkey  thrust  his  sooty  visage 
inside  the  door. 

Now  I  am  speaking  of  ante-Lincoln  days ; 
\vhen?as  yet,  our  colored  brothers  had  not 
come  up  to  our  houses,  our  tables,  our  very 


7  AM  A    CHILD.  1 9 

6ed-chambers,  so  to  speak  ;  and  the  moment 
that  vision  of  darkness  met  my  childish  eye, 
although  I  had  literally  never  taken  one 
step  in  my  future  career,  I  rose  from  the 
cricket  whereon  I  had  been  planted,  and 
made  straight  for  the  sheltering  arms  of  my 
mother ;  putting,  in  unquestioning  faith,  her 
love  between  me  and,  as  I  thought  —  the 
devil ! 

I  had  now  found  my  feet. 

Being  of  the  "  female  persuasion,"  I  did 
not  have  to  hunt  for  my  tongue.  My 
friends  will  testify  to  that. 

I  was  about  to  moralize  —  but  hark !  an 
agonizing  scream  falls  on  my  ear.  Once 
heard,  above  all,  once  uttered,  never  for- 
gotten. 

Yes  —  her  hour  has  come  !  The  woman 
next  room,  —  childbirth  pangs  upon  her,  — 
obedient  to  the  fiat  "  In  sorrow  shalt  thou 
bring  forth,"  pays  the  penalty  of  her  sex 
and  suffers  more  than  words  can  tell  1 


2O  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Everywhere ;  these  same  shrieks,  con- 
stantly ascending  to  the  ear  of  the  Father 
never  closed  to  the  cry  of  his  children 
must,  one  would  think,  shut  out  the  very 
music  of  heaven.  » 

The  silence  of  death  has  succeeded. 

Is  it  that  ? 

Happily,  to  the  babe. 

I  have  a  bachelor  cousin  (what  does  he 
know  about  it  ?)  who  says,  "  Better  if  all 
thus  died." 

I  agree ! 

Population  might  not  get  on  so  fast,  but 
it  would  be  a  good  thing  for  the  little 
ones! 

Once  here,  however,  and  likely  to  remain, 
who  can  understand  them  ?  even  our  own  ? 

We  bring  them  into  the  world ;  feed 
them ;  clothe  them ;  are  always  with  them ; 
yet  in  too  many  instances  know  them,  as 
we  do  the  moon,  by  outside  observation. 


I  AM  A    CHILD.  2  I 

With  the  surface  part  of  my  being  kindly 
cared  for,  I  grew  on ;  not  much  pains  be- 
ing taken  to  sound  the  depths,  comprehend 
and  train  the  hidden  nature,  which  was  my 
true  self. 

To  feed  and  to  clothe,  is  that  all  ? 

In  modern  days,  chances  are  against  the 
child  through  this  undue  attention  to  the 
external. 

I  do  not  complain ;  but  I  say,  if  more 
thought  had  been  given  to  the  best  devel- 
opment of  a  highly  sensitive  organization ; 
more  labor  bestowed  upon  the  heart,  less 
upon  the  head ;  I,  for  one,  should  have 
come  up  a  better  woman. 

Clearly,  I  combined  the  elements  of  two 
distinct  lives. 

The  one,  bright  and  joyous ;  mischief 
and  prank  filling  the  house  with  sunshine. 
The  other,  dreamy  and  sad ;  influenced  by 
emotions  difficult  to  explain,  but  with  which 
my  playmates  had  no  sympathy. 


22  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Never  mind.  I  was  full  of  vitality,  and 
thoroughly  enjoyed  everything  going,  ex- 
cepting —  dolls. 

Being  a  girl,  I  know  I  ought,  but  some- 
how I  didn't. 

Imagination  was  not  at  fault.  Mine,  how- 
ever, would  not  take  that  direction. 

I  had  no  pleasure  in  tugging  round 
the  senseless  things ;  making  believe  keep 
house ;  and  all  the  rest  of  the  tiresome  pro- 
gramme. 

I  loved  flowers.  Already  delighted  in 
books.  Adored  music.  A  pity !  as  tem- 
peraments peculiarly  susceptible  to  sweet 
sounds,  are  equally  so  to  sorrow. 

None  had,  thus  far,  come  to  me.  None 
might. 

Beloved  by  parents,  petted  by  friends,  I 
unconsciously  slipped  from  happy  child- 
hood  into  sweet,  mysterious  girlhood. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MY   GIRLHOOD. 

"  Beauty,  is  modesty  and  grace  in  fair  retiring  girlhood." 

"Induce  not  precocity  of  intellect,  for  so  shouldst  thou  nourish 
vanity." 

THE  other  day  I  saw  a  picture,  very  beau- 
tiful in  its  whole  conception. 

Two  figures,  mother  and  daughter,  are 
upon  an  eminence. 

Wearily,  the  mother  is  looking  backward ; 
over  the  long,  winding  path  her  feet  have 
trodden  to  reach  this  spot. 

Eagerly,  the  daughter  is  looking  forward 
into  the  dim  distance ;  trying  to  locate  the 
way  her  feet  shall  take. 

I  place  myself  beside  the  mother. 

MY  past  returns. 

Its  memories  of  youthful  aspirations,  so 


24 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


crushed  ;  youthful  plans,  so  blighted  ;  youth 
ful   friendships,  so  dead;  that   I   only  feel 
sorrow  in  contemplating  this  ardent,  high- 
spirited  maiden,  knowing  the  certain  disap- 
pointment to  which  she  goes. 

Only  the  phlegmatic  really  enjoy  ! 

Once  I  met  a  person  who  boldly  asserted 
the  same  ;  and  who,  if  launched  again  upon 
life,  would  beg  to  leave  behind  —  her  heart  ! 

I  was  no  longer  alone. 

A  fair-haired,  blue-eyed  girl,  rivaled  me 
in  my  mother's  love.  I  do  not  wonder.  So 
sweet-tempered,  so  thoughtful  was  the  dear 
child  ;  a  willing  help  in  all  the  various  do- 
mestic cares,  which,  to  my  shame,  I  inva- 
riably shirked. 

But  I  do  not  think  my  father  ever  gave  to 
his  second,  the  blind  affection  he  lavished 
upon  his  wayward  first-born. 

"  Whom  the  gods  love  die  young." 

Endeared  to  all  within  her  sweet  influ- 


MY  GIRLHOOD.  25 

ence,  scarcely  had  fifteen  brief  summers 
passed,  than,  leaving  us  forever  to  mourn 
her  loss,  my  sister  died  ! 

And  one  other ;  to  his  latest  hour,  will 
bear  in  his  "  heart  of  hearts  "  the  memory 
of  a  dearly  loved,  and  early  lost  I 

My  grandfather  dead,  my  parents  moved 
to  a  large  manufacturing  place ;  and  my 
mother's  eldest  sister,  having  no  daughters 
of  her  own,  claimed  me  for  an  unlimited 
time. 

If  she  had  put  me  right  into  her  kitchen, 
and  taught  me  how  to  "  bake  and  to  brew," 
I  think  a  good  deal  of  troublesome  romance 
would  have  gone  off  in  the  smoke  incident 
to  that  useful  pastime. 

Through  mistaken  kindness  this  was  not 
done ;  and  over  the  intervening  years,  I  sol- 
emnly declare  that  kindness  to  have  been 
the  wreck  upon  which  I  went  down. 

Instead  of  the  frying-pan,  Algebra ! 


26  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

What  need  has  a  girl  of  Algebra  ?  She 
spends  her  money  too  fast  to  stop  and 
reckon  it. 

Instead  of  the  pudding-bag,  French ! 

Was  she  ambitious  to  hear  me  scold  my 
future  household  in  that  voluble  tongue  ? 

Parents!  whatever  else  you  fail  to  do, 
learn,  betimes,  your  female  offspring  TO 
COOK. 

We  may  have  our  eating-saloons,  our  fash- 
ionable restaurants,  our  imported  "  Blot's ;  " 
but  one  old  style,  well-prepared  dinner,  out- 
weighs them  all ! 

Meanwhile  I  was  put  through  a  course 
of  studies  that  would  have  floored  any  girl, 
whose  mental  activity  had  not  been  quick- 
ened, as  mine. 

I  enjoyed  it 

Nature,  Art,  the  Sciences,  lay  open  be- 
fore me. 

Text-books  of  a  high  order  were  at  hand. 

My  education,  intellectually,  was  not  neg- 
lected. 


MY  GIRLHOOD.  2f 

There  is  no  good,  however,  without  its  at- 
tendant evil.  Here,  in  this  excellent  family 
my  very  worst  characteristic  —  pride  —  was 
secretly  fostered ;  and  in  its  rapid  growth, 
overshadowed  many  a  better  quality. 

Others  looked  upon  me  as  something  a 
little  uncommon,  and  I  certainly  regarded 
myself  in  that  light. 

But  for  one  thing,  Eternity  will  prove  me 
indebted  to  this  pious  woman. 

My  religious  faith  became  so  rooted  and 
grounded,  that  no  after  shock  of  temptation 
or  sin  could  drift  me  from  my  Scriptural 
mooring. 

"  Among  the  faithless,  faithful  she," 

and  had  her  Bible  told  her  the  sun  did  not 
shine,  with  her  eyes  in  her  head,  she  would 
have  ignored  his  rays. 

So  would  I ! 

From  this  time-  a  new  element  was  in- 
fused into  my  composition. 

Impulsively  giving   up  other  pursuits,  I 


28  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

sought  to  fathom  its  mysteries ;  and  devot- 
ing all  my  energies  to  the  one  study  of  the 
revealed  Word,  I  was  led  on,  fascinated  by 
the  glorious  truths,  until  Religion  became 
my  one  idea. 

My  Aunt  in  her  daily  life  was  an  epitome, 
a  living  example  of  her  faith. 

I  then  thought  the  same  divine  afflatus 
had  taken  possession  of  my  heart. 

Possibly  it  had ;  and  after  wanderings 
were  over  the  smouldering  spark  that,  by 
and  by,  should  flame  up,  repurifying  every 
emotion. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    CIRCUS. 

"  The  rude  hall  rocks  —  they  come,  they  come, 
The  din  of  voices  shakes  the  dome." 

"  And  hurry,  hurry,  off  they  rode 
As  fast  as  fast  might  be." 

PLEASURE  again  claimed  me.  Home  to 
D . 

The  town  is  all  agog! 

Upon  straggling  fences  and  unused  build- 
ings, in  the  Market  Square,  and  at  the 
Post-office,  are  enormous  hand-bills,  setting 
forth  that  next  Wednesday  morning  a  Cir- 
cus Troupe  will  make  their  entrance.  The 
whole  company,  in  gorgeous  costume ;  splen- 
did horses,  with  rich  trappings ;  band  play- 
ing, banners  flying.  "  Afternoon  perform- 


3O  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

ance  to  commence  at  two  o'clock,  door 
open  at  one.  Evening  performance  to  com- 
mence at  seven  o'clock,  door  open  at  six. 
Admittance  twenty-five  cents.  Children, 
accompanied  by  parents,  half  price." 

It  is  with  the  afternoon  performance  I 
have  to  do. 

I  am  quite  young ;  precisely  at  that  age 
girls  are  most  desirous  to  look  well. 

I  have  a  beau  ;  sort  of  half  and  half; 
keeps  me  on  the  anxious  seat  all  the  time 
with  his  indecision,  whether  to  stick  by  me, 
or  go  with  Lucy  Dean  ! 

I  feel  that  the  matter  of  an  extra  ribbon 
would  decide  him. 

It  is  a  settled  thing.  My  mother  will 
not  give  me  mortey  to  throw  away  upon 
what  she  calls  "  wicked  amusements." 

Now  I'have  had  my  mind  all  summer  in- 
terested  in   a  certain  blue  sash,  and  have 
saved  up  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  towards  buy 
ing  the  same. 


THE  CIRCUS,  31 

If  my  irresolute  friend  invites  me, 

"  Everything  is  lovely,  and  the  goose  hangs  high  ; " 

but  if  he  should  choose  that  dark-eyed 
miss,  good-by  to  the  sash,  for  I  am  going 
Wednesday  afternoon  to  see  that  Show. 

For  once,  the  weather  deserved  credit. 
It  was  propitious. 

"  Nor  too  hot,  nor  too  cold," 

and  all  the  forenoon  streams  of  vehicles  — 
from  the  stylish  carriage,  that  drove  directly 
to  the  hotel  and  deposited  its  load  in  care 
of  the  obsequious  landlord ;  to  the  country 
wagon ;  that  brought  wife,  children,  lunch, 
and  hay  for  Dobbin  to  munch,  while  his 
companions  within  were  feasting  upon  the 
unwonted  pageant,  —  poured  through  the 
streets. 

Shall  I  ever  forget  that  day  ? 

The  tent  pitched  on  the  open  common, 
so  white  against  the  clear  blue  sky,  while 
from  its  centre  floated  the  Flag  we  have  all 


32  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

learned  since  to  love.  The  air  so  pure, 
The  grass  so  green.  The  people  in  their 
best  clothes.  The  hurrying  hither  and 
thither  to  accost  a  friend,  or  secure  a  good 
position.  Jokes  on  every  side.  The  tramp- 
ling of  horses;  over  all  the  lively  music, 
together  produced  a  flutter  of  excitement 
that  told  pleasantly  upon  the  nerves,  and 
evoked  expressions  of  good  feeling  from 
the  most  reserved. 

The  exhibition  was  advertised  at  two 
o'clock.  By  one  every  seat  was  taken ;  and 
all  the  space  between  the  pit  and  the  more 
elevated  boards,  filled  with  a  jostling  crowd. 

I  was  among  the  first  on  the  ground,  and 
took  my  place  about  half  way  up ;  neither 
so  low,  but  I  could  see  the  feet  of  the  per- 
formers—  neither  so  high,  but  I  was  out 
reach  of  sun,  wind,  or  flapping  canvas. 

Now  began  the  fun ! 

Loafing  men,  inside,  struggling  for  a 
chance. 


THE   CIRCUS.  33 

Loafing  boys,  outside,  eager  to  get  in, 
but  just  short  of  the  magic  sum  wherewith 
to  effect  an  entrance. 

The  more  daring  tried  to  force  their  way 
under  the  tent.  But  no  sooner  were  head 
and  shoulders  well  in,  than  an  unexpected 
jerk  of  the  leg,  at  the  hand  of  a  watchful 
"  attache,"  twitched  the  poor  sinner  out. 

Pent  between  two  monstrous  women  — 
one  had  a  baby  in  her  lap  —  I  looked  here 
and  there  to  discover  my  acquaintance. 

Yes  —  yonder  was  my  beau,  the  vacilla- 
ting! over  whom  I  had  cried  half  the 
night  —  flirting  and  making  love  to  that 
miserable  Lucy  Dean. 

How  homely  the  girl  is  ! 

What  can  William  Watson  see  to  fancy 
in  her  ?  and,  am  I  to  believe  my  eyes !  tied 
round  the  awkward  creature's  waist  is  my 
blue  sash ! 

I  could  tell  it  among  a  hundred.  I  knew 
my  fate  hung  on  that  I 

3 


34  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Pride  crushed  back  my  tears;  and  just 
then,  too,  with  flourish  of  trumpets,  came 
flying  through  the  narrow  alley  "  The 
Troupe,"  to  see  which  I  had  sacrificed  so 
much. 

Was  there  ever  anything  so  magnificent  ? 

How  rich  they  must  be !  Crimson  velvet 
dresses,  trimmed  with  gold. 

And  such  horses !  even  their  saddles  all 
over  gold ! 

Where  did  so  much  come  from  ?  I  know. 
New  York. 

But  see  them  prance !  —  in  and  out  —  in 
and  out!  just  like  a  dance.  Why!  it  is  a 
dance.  The  band  is  playing  a  waltz. 

How  glad  I  am  I  came !  Who  cares  for 
Bill  Watson,  Luce  Dean,  or  the  old  sash 
either  ? 

Good  gracious  I  What  is  that  fellow  do- 
ing ?  —  piling  glass  bottles  to  stand  upon  ? 
so  high  too !  is  he  stark  mad  ?  Suppose 
the  underneath  one  should  happen  to  break  J 


THE  CIRCUS.  35 

He  has  reached  the  top,  and,  as  the  crowd 
applauds,  stretches  out  his  arms ! 

I  shall  faint  dead  away —  I  know  I  shall! 

Now  isn't  that  boy  a  beauty  ?  The  man 
with  him  must  be  his  father  —  and  they  are 
going  to  ride  one  horse.  How  carefully  he 
holds  on  to  the  little  chap  that  he  may  not 
fall  —  and  kisses  him,  two  or  three  times. 

What ! — the  boy  has  sprung  to  his  feet 

—  is    upon   his   father's   hand  —  upon    his 
father's  shoulder  —  upon   his  father's  head 

—  with  both  arms  and  one  leg  in  the  air  — 
the  horse  all  the  time  going  round  the  ring 
fast  as  ever  he  can  gallop ! 

I  hold  my  breath  ! 

I  know  that  tune  the  band  is  playing, 

"  Pretty,  pretty  Polly  Hopkins," 

and  the  men  are  laying  down  a  piece  of 
carpet. 

Somebody  is  going  to  dance ! 

O!  isn't  that  the  handsomest  girl   that 


36 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


ever  was  born?  I  guess  Luce  Dean  will 
feel  worked  up  now  !  her  dress  is  awful 
short,  though  !  that's  the  way  they  wear  them 
in  New  York  ;  but  her  feet  are  just  as  nice 
as  they  can  be  —  and  such  lovely  bronze 
slippers  !  her  white  lace  overskirt,  caught 
up  on  the  left  side,  with  a  pink  rose  —  pink 
sash  (I  am  glad  I  didn't  buy  that  blue  thing), 
and  pink  buds  in  her  hair. 

Her  partner  !  isn't  he  sweet  ?  green  satin 
trousers,  white  silk  stockings,  black  shiny 
pumps,  and  a  little  straw  hat  on  one  side, 
with  narrow  green  streamers. 

Now  they  begin.     See  their  steps  ! 

"  Pretty,  pretty  Polly  Hopkins, 
How  do  you  do  ?  how  do  you  do  ?  " 

She  flies  from  him  !  He  cannot  overtake 
her!  She  taps  him  on  the  shoulder,  and 
before  he  can  turn,  she's  gone  ! 

"  Pretty,  pretty  Polly  Hopkins  !  " 

What  a  dance  you  are  leading  that  en- 
amored swain! 


'  Now  they  begin.     See  their  steps ! "  —  Page  36. 


THE   CIRCUS.  37 

What's  that  ?  the  growl  of  a  lion  ?  They 
don't  have  lions  at  a  circus.  It  can't  be 
thunder  /  When  did  the  shower  come  up  ? 
How  it  rains  !  The  spectators  are  leaving. 
I  hope  Luce  Dean's  sash  will  get  wring- 
ing wet,  and  all  the  color  run  out,  the  minx  ! 

O,  how  it  lightens!  If  I  was  only  at 
home  !  Mother  said  it  was  wrong  to  come. 
I  know  I  shall  be  struck.  Dear  me!  deal 


With  the  vision  of 

"  Pretty,  pretty  Polly  Hopkins  !  " 

before   my  eyes  —  and,  mingling  with  the 
thunder,  the  refrain, 

"  None  the  better,  Tommy  Tompkins," 

in  my  ears  —  I  rush  for  the  door. 

The  grand  times  I  had*  in  that  dear  old 
village  ! 

If  these  pages  chance  to  meet  the  eye  of 
S.  M.,  K.  H.,  R.  W.,  recall  what  dances! 


38  •  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

made  memorable  by  the  wonderfully  exe 
cuted  "  Turkey  Step  "  of  W.  ].,  and  the  ap 
proving  slap  of  G.  I.  I.  upon  his  fat  legs, 
after  his  well-cut  "  Pigeon's  Wing." 

What  sleigh-rides  in  winter !  what  beach 
rides  in  summer ! 

Life  now  was  gala  ! 

It  will  not  be  supposed  I  could  take  all 
these  rides  with  good-looking  young  men  — 
enjoy  all   these   dances  with  well-dressed^ 
beaux,  —  and  come  off  heart  whole ! 

O,  no  !  many  was  the  skirmish  I  had  with 
the  little  "  god  of  love ;  "  and  one  of  his 
well-aimed  thrusts,  took  six  weeks  to  heal  1 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  TWICE  ELOPED. 

"  And  now  is  seen  the  passion  for  utility,  when  all  things  are 
accounted  by  their  price."  , 

"  And  she  has  met  with  Glenlyon, 
Who  has  stolen  her  away." 

NEVER  attempt  to  dodge  your  destiny; 
as  well  float  up  current.  You  cannot  do  it. 

About  this  time  I  ran  away.  As  I  am  ro- 
mantic, I  will  express  myself  differently.  1 
eloped.  Not  in  company  with  a  lover,  but 
—  with  myself! 

Two  motives  induced  me.  I  wanted  to 
see  the  city  —  and  my  dear  father's  death 
leaving  us  in  straitened  circumstances  —  I 
wanted  to  "  turn  an  honest  penny." 

Why  I  did  not  take  to  school-teaching 


4O  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

honorable  and  remunerative,  I  am  unable 
to  tell. 

Hiding  my  light,  as  it  were,  under  a 
bushel ;  unknown  to  my  friends,  I  entered 
a  leading  store  as  saleswoman. 

My  world  was  immediately  turned  upside 
down ! 

My  mother's  blue  blood  boiled  in  her 
veins ! 

Her  twin  sister's  son,  from  the  hour  I 
thus  ignobly  lowered  the  aristocratic  banner 
of  our  house,  pitiless  and  unforgiving,  walks 
the  streets  of  Boston,  vouchsafing  to  me  no 
cousinly  glance ! 

Meantime  I  made  a  capital  clerk. 

Algebra  told !  and  many  a  customer  rued 
the  day  I  had  applied  myself  so  closely  to 
its  calculations. 

I  discovered  a  business  talent. 

No  greater  change,  however,  could  possi- 
bly have  been  made  in  any  individual  life. 
Heretofore,  mistress  of  my  own  time,  habits 


THE    TWICE  ELOPED.  41 

of  a  born  lady,  proclivities  decidedly  liter- 
'ary.  Now,  busily  employed  all  day,  I  had 
no  opportunity  to  exercise  my  tastes  or  en- 
joy my  books. 

But  I  could  study  human  nature  ;  and, 
believe  me,  there  is  a  good  deal  of  it  round  ! 

Better  not,  ladies !  go  into  a  store  with 
heads-  so  high  you  can  scarcely  see  the  per- 
son who  serves  you.  Better  not,  ladies! 
address  her  as  a  lower  order  of  creation; 
for  the  girl  who  ties  up  your  purchase,  may 
be,  in  birth  and  education,  immeasurably 
your  superior. 

There  are  those  who  understand,  and,  to 
their  honor,  act  in  accordance ;  that  in  the 
inexplicable  confusion  of  life,  some  are  jos- 
tled out  of  their  sphere. 

Fortunately,  for  my  peace  of  mind,  and 
lean  purse,  I  did  not  care  for  dress ;  rather 
held  to  the  Chinese  notion,  —  one  thing  for- 
ever !  Still,  there  were  days  when  I  likecl 
to  put  on  all  my  finery,  and  mildly  enjoy 
the  extra  notice. 


42  AH  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Take  it  all  in  all,  this  was  about  the  hap- 
piest period  of  my  life. 

Well  may  I  think  so  ! 

As  then,  my  Destiny  fulfilled  her  mission, 
and  leading  me  to  my  supremest  happiness ; 
introduced  me  to  the  gifted  son  of — a 
Methodist  preacher. 

From  that  time  existence  took  on  a 
deeper  meaning. 

My  whole  being  recognized,  and  went 
out  to  its  new  master — LOVE  —  and,  wel- 
comed to  its  resting-place,  returned  no 
more ;  but  dwelt  forever  there,  in  sweetest 
peace. 

There  are  three  things  that  interest  the 
public.  Birth  ;  Marriage  ;  Death. 

They  had  got  well  over  my  birth ;  and 
while  waiting  for  my  death,  took  in  hand 
my  marriage. 

Obscurity  availed  nothing.  Sensation 
was  my  twin  sister. 


THE    TWICE  ELOPED. 


43 


The  engagement  of  the  only  daughter  of 

Captain  E to  a  humble  minister's  son, 

was,  for  the  time  being,  among  my  acquaint- 
ances, the  topic. 

Methodists,  twenty  years  ago,  were  not 
what  they  are  to-day,  in  either  education  or 
popularity. 

We  will  leave  the  Book  of  Doom  to  de- 
cide whether,  upon  its  unprejudiced  pages, 
as  many  were  not  registered  favorably  then, 
as  now! 

Meanwhile,  there  was  a  strong  counter 
pressure  brought  to  bear  upon  the  contem- 
plated match  by  those  interested  in  break- 
ing it  off-  Foremost  among  whom  was  a 
sheep-faced,  inanimate,  rival  suitor. 

If  there  had  been  anything  wanting  to 
decide  the  question,  this  foolish  interference 
would  have  supplied  the  link. 

Serenely  keeping  our  own  counsel,  we, 
the  principal  faction  concerned,  accepted 
one  "  Thanksgiving  "  an  invitation  to  dine 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

out.  I  well  remember  the  dinner.  It 
really  was  capital ! 

But  it  is  with  heartfelt  sadness  I  record, 
that  one,  to  whose  kindness  then,  and  often 
after,  I  was  indebted  ;  leaving  her  earthly 
friends  in  sorrow  to  mourn,  now  feeds  upon 
the  heavenly  manna. 

Leaving,  my  companion  announced  to  our 
surprised  hosts,  that  ere  all  met  again  we 
"  twain  should  be  one  flesh ;  "  and  hurrying 
to  the  depot  —  took  the  train  for  Provi- 
dence, R.  I.,  in  those  days  the  "  Gretna 
Green  "  of  persecuted  lovers. 

Evidently  I  was  getting  my  hand  in- 
to Elopements ! 

Arriving  there,  an  unforeseen  obstacle 
presented  itself.  It  was  necessary  to  be 
"  cried ; "  or,  even  in  that  accommodating 
city,  the  marriage  would  not  be  legal. 

"  Great  oaks  from  little  acorns  spring." 

That  year  politics  ran  high  —  and  even 


THE    TWICE  ELOPED.  45 

the  good  cheer  of  a  regular  holiday,  could 
not  restrain  the  zeal  of  a  few  souls  ardent 
in  the  cause. 

An  excited  knot,  sufficient  in  nurhber 
to  form  a  quorum,  was  hunted  up ;  and 
much  to  their  amusement,  the  Town  Clerk 
published  in  their  ears  the  "  bans  of  wed- 
lock," between  "  contracting  parties,  Paul 
Pennington  and  Elizabeth  M.  Weymouth, 
both  of  Boston,  Massachusetts." 

The  delay  over,  a  willing  clergyman 
ratified  the  whole  thing  —  not  forgetting  in 
the  haste  to  rejoin  his  feasting  family,  to 
dwell  at  some  length  upon  the  word  o-b-e-y. 

I  think  I  never  realized  the  comprehen- 
sive meaning  of  those  four  letters,  until 
elaborated  by  his  tongue. 

With  a  generous  fee  in  his  hand,  he  went 
back  to  the  waiting  group ;  and  in  fluttering 
happiness,  /  exchanged  my  maiden  freedom 
for  the  soft  restraint  of  a  blushing  bride  1 


CHAPTER  VII. 

I    AM    A    WIFE. 
"  And  a  well-assorted  marriage  hath  not  many  cares." 

THERE  never  was  a  rich  Methodist  min- 
ister ! 

If  lucky  enough  to  receive  sufficient  sal- 
ary to  keep  soul  and  body  together;  and 
fifty  cents  over  for  a  rainy  day ;  he  will  in- 
evitably give  away  the  fifty  cents. 

Rejoicing  in  a  father  whose  "treasures 
were  laid  up  in  heaven,"  my  husband  had 
his  own  way  to  make  in  the  world. 

I  at  once  determined  to  aid  him  in  the 
laudable  undertaking. 

I  deserve  the  more  credit,  as  it  was  done 
before  "  strong  minded  "  women  came  tum- 
bling into  the  arena;  upsetting  every 


I  AM  A    WIFE. 


47 


blessed  man ;  and  seizing,  with  all  else  they 
can  lay  hands  on,  their  very  breeches,  so  to 
speak,  as  trophies  of  victory  ! 

It  was  some  years  before  the  war,  too. 

Times  then,  and  the  mode  of  doing  busi 
ness,  were  quite  different.     The  high  pres 
sure  system  was  not  so  much  the  style.     A 
young  man  of  industry  and  integrity  had  an 
almost   certain   prospect   of  success.     His 
word  entered  into  the  account,  and  if  hon- 
orably redeemed,  was  additional  capital. 

Now,  arrangements  written  in  blood  are 
hardly  considered  binding. 

Then,  Honesty  was  a  power. 

Now,  ignored  as  "  behind  the  times,"  she 
hides  her  diminished  head  ;  and,  crestfallen, 
acknowledges  u  she  don  t  pay  I " 

Then,  the  aspirant  was  willing  to  wait, 
and  receive  gifts  from  Fortune  as  he  earned 
them.  Now,  the  poor  Jade  is  so  "  battered 
and  bruised,"  that  —  fleeing  for  her  life  — 
she  scatters  indiscriminately  her  treasures, 


48  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY, 

and  Young  America  secures  the  largest 
share ! 

"  A  man  is  praised  as  he  does  well  for 
himself." 

1873  indorses  the  days  of  Job  ! 

We  took  a  small  store.  With  just  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  started  in  busi- 
ness. 

We  were  young,  healthy,  and  had  our 
wits  about  us. 

Soon  people  began  to  find,  indeed  it  be- 
came rather  the  fashion,  to  patronize  us ; 
and  there  is  not  a  person  living  who  ever 

had  dealings  with  Mr.  P ,  but  will  bear 

witness,  "  his  word  was  as  good  as  a  bond." 

As  for  myself —  well !  I  was  more  consci- 
entious then,  than  I  am  now. 

One  thing  was  sure.  We  devoted  our 
whole  time  to  business.  An  early  hour  in 
the  morning  —  a  late  hour  at  night  —  found 
us  still  employed. 

I  gave  up  all  my  acquaintance ;  or,  what 


1  AM  A    WIFE 


49 


amounted  to  the  same  thing,  they  all  gave 
up  me ;  and,  obedient  to  my  nature,  took 
hold  in  earnest  of  the  thing  in  hand,  only 
too  happy  in  the  constant  companionship  of 
my  husband. 

All  the  outside  time  we  could  possibly 
command  was  devoted  to  reading,  study, 
and  mutual  improvement.  None  given  to 
pleasure. 

Influenced  by  his  sedate  and  consistent 
life,  I  again  became  interested  in  religion. 
This  second  conviction  leading  me  through 
a  heart-rending  experience,  in  which  "  Satan 
was  determined  to  sift  me  as  wheat."  To 
his  discomfiture,  however,  I  united  with  the 
Church  ;  of  which  to-day  I  am  its  most  un- 
worthy member. 

Meanwhile  in  trade,  there  were  the  usual 
ups  and  downs ;  until  the  great  financial 
crisis  swept  over  the  land. 

Many  large  houses  were  completely  up- 
rooted. In  our  snug  little  quarters  we  just 

4 


5O  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

made  out  to  weather  the  gale ;  but  it  took 
many  a  weary  month  to  repair  damages. 

Time  passed  on.  Increased  success  was 
again  ours ;  and,  looked  upon  as  "  rising," 
we  considered  ourselves  —  established. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  PRESENTIMENT. 

"  The  idol  of  thy  heart  is,  as  thou,  a  probationary  sojourner  oa 
earth." 

IT  now  became  evident  that  one  of  the 
partners  must  give  up  —  and  taking,  I  think, 
the  respect  and  good  wishes  of  our  custom- 
ers, I  bade  adieu  to  public,  and  entered  upon 
private  life. 

Behold  me!  in  a  pleasant  home,  a  few 
miles  from  the  city,  invested  with  the  new 
dignity  of  housekeeper;  the  happy  mother 
of  a  growing  family. 

My  husband,  also,  made  a  change. 

In  a  larger  building;  extending  his  opera- 
tions ;  with  tact  and  shrewdness,  slowly  but 
surely,  he  laid  the  foundation  of  a  more  than 
competence. 


52  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

Everything  prospered.  His  unyielding 
principle  had  got  him  an  excellent  name. 
Old  firms  were  pleased  to  acknowledge  the 
successful,  self-made  young  merchant. 

In  both  business  and  social  relations  he 
was  favored. 

As  I  have  said,  he  was  religious.  Up  to 
this  time  he  had  worshipped  with  his  Con- 
gregational brethren.  But  now,  true  to  the 
faith  of  his  fathers,  he  formed  an  embryo 
society  —  the  increasing  membership  of 
which  —  still  hold  him  in  grateful  memory. 

We  had  lived  in  M about  ten  years; 

in  as  perfect  a  state  of  happiness  as  can 
well  fall  to  the  lot  of  mortals. 

We  owned  our  house.  Its  appointments 
were  comfortable,  even  elegant.  My  tastes 
•were  all  gratified.  My  wants  all  met  —  and 
supposing  this  state  of  thing  would  always 
continue  —  I  lived  on. 

At  the  close  of  this  last  year,  however  ; 
indeed,  all  during  the  month  of  Decem 


A  PRESENTIMENT.  53 

ber,  I  was  a  prey  to  the  most  distressing 
but  persistent  fancies. 

A  great  Shadow  had  fallen  upon  me ! 

I  became  conscious  some  terrible  misfor- 
tune was  impending. 

So  entirely  did  this  belief  take  posses- 
sion of  my  mind,  that  I  passed  the  greater 
part  of  each  day  in  tears ;  often  apologiz- 
ing to  friends  for  the  unaccountable  emo- 
tion, which  I  could  neither  explain,  nor  ban- 
ish. 

It  seemed  absolutely  certain  that  some- 
thing awful  would  occur  before  the  old  year 
died  out ;  and  when  the  new  year,  bright 
and  glorious,  came  in  ;  my  husband,  my 
children  well;  the  house  standing  firm  on 
its  foundation ;  words  could  not  express  my 
joy. 

But,  I  was  not  alone  in  my  Presentiment ! 

The  first  day  of  January,  18 — ,  fell  on 
Sunday. 

A  reverend  gentleman,  who  was  taking 


54  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

tea  with  us,  upon  moving  from   the  table 
requested  permission  to  kneel. 

Thus  he  prayed  — 

"  We  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  an- 
other  year.  Thanks  be  to  our  heavenly 
Father,  all  is  well.  Soon,  we  may  be  called 
to  part  —  child  with  its  parent  —  parent 
with  its  child.  Wife  with  her  husband  "  — 

Suddenly  he  stopped  ;  with  the  sensation 
of  a  blow  upon  his  head;  words  failed — • 
he  could  go  no  farther. 

Monday  morning  dawned.  Its  peaceful 
hours  went  on. 

Punctually  returning  in  the  six  o'clock 
train,  the  dear,  well-known  step  in  the  hall 
fell  upon  my  ear. 

The  events  of  the  day  discussed ;  the 
pleasant  evening  meal  finished  ;  the  children 
—  a  father's  kiss  warm  upon  their  rosy  lips 
— -'fast  asleep ;  my  husband  commenced 
reading  aloud  to  me. 

All  at  once,  putting  his  hand  to  his  head, 


A  PRESENTIMENT.  55 

he  exclaimed,  "  O !  this  rush  of  blood ! ' 
and  giving  no  sign,  fell  dead  at  my  feet. 

Friends  rushed  in  1  Medical  aid  was 
summoned  I 

It  was  of  no  avail. 

The  respected  business  man  —  the  adored 
husband  —  the  beloved  father  —  the  faith- 
ful church  member;  leaving  business,  wife, 
children,  and  church  —  had  gone  to  his  God ! 

Would  I  could  here  stop ;  lay  down  my 
pen ;  close  mine  eyes ;  and  join  the  de- 
parted ! 

But  no !     Living,  I  am  a  widow ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

I  AM  A  WIDOW. 

"  And  I  said  this  in  sorrow  ;  but  pity  cannot  reach  it." 
"  All  things  being  are  in  mystery." 

AT  a  comparatively  early  age  —  I  was 
eleven  years  younger  than  I  am  now  —  I 
lost  my  husband. 

I  mourned  him  with  my  whole  soul. 

The  world  appeared  dark  ;  and  there  was 
no  brightness  to  relieve  my  sombre  sky. 

To  do  as  he  would  approve  became  my 
chief  desire. 

Naturally,  my  first  efforts  were  directed 
towards  the  struggling,  religious  society  he 
had  left. 

Mr.  P was  a  Methodist  from  choice, 

I,  because  of  the  love  I  bore  him. 


I  AM  A    WIDOW,  O 

V  > 

A  witty  minister  of  the  "  standing  or- 
der" used  to  say,  "that  as  fast  as  I  was 
twisted  into  a  Methodist  at  one  end,  I  un- 
raveled as  a  Congregationalist  at  the 
other!" 

Be  that  as  it  may —  I  am  confident  that 
had  Paul  Pennington  hailed  as  a  god,  the 
SUN  ;  rather  than  have  been  separated  from 
him,  I  should,  a  devout  worshipper  of  the 
same  luminary,  have  knelt  by  his  side. 

"  Thou,  for  my  sake,  at  Alla's  shrine, 
I,  at  any  god's,  for  thine  !  " 

Happily  for  my  future,  he  had  welcomed 
the  True  Light,  and  his  heart  was  illumined 
by  divine  rays. 

Seven  is  considered  the  ruling  number. 

Not  so  by  me ! 

THREE,  comprise  the  mystic  cycle  of  my 
fate. 

I  have  passed  through  three  distinct 
phases  of  life ! 

I  have  had  three  special  calls  to  a  relig 
ious  life  ! 


58  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I  have  suffered  three  marked  punish- 
ments for  not  conforming  to  that  life ! 

And  I  have  had  three  —  separate  VISIONS  ! 

Now  I  am  not  a  Spiritualist.  I  have  no 
sympathy  with  this  wonder  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  But  as  regards  these,  thus 
evidenced  by  my  senses,  the  last  trump  it- 
self will  not  shake  my  faith. 

One  —  early  in  life  —  when,  alone  in  my 
chamber ;  torn  asunder  with  desire  to  throw 
myself  into  the  arms  of  the  Saviour;  hin- 
dered by  frightful  unbelief  from  so  doing ;  I 
saw,  with  my  own  eyes  —  A  HAND  —  ex- 
tended to  help  me  upwards. 

One  —  later  in  life  —  when,  again  alone ; 
striving  to  break  the  iron  band  of  worldli- 
ness  that  held  me  in  its  riveted  embrace ;  I 
heard,  with  my  own  ears  —  A  VOICE  —  ear- 
nestly asking  me  "  to  give  up  seeking  re- 
ligion ! " 

One  —  latest  —  when,  in  a  crowded  con- 
ference meeting;  I  saw,  with  my  own  fa- 


I  AM  A    WIDOW.  59 

vored  sight  —  MY  HUSBAND  —  standing, 
white-robed,  with  the  angels ;  joining  in  the 
song  of  praise  then  going  up  to  heaven 
from  his  Christian  brethren,  assembled  in 
evening  worship. 

But  we  are  all  human  beings ;  and  though 
"grief  may  endure  for  a  night,  joy  cometh 
in  the  morning." 

With  time,  the  "  great  consoler,"  my  feel- 
ings  were  somewhat  modified  ;  and  assumed 
a  more  healthy  tone. 

I  was  still  young,  tolerably  good-looking, 
and  at  this  late  day  developed  a  wonderful 
power  "  to  attract." 

I  do  not  think  I  had  ever  before  realized 
my  capacity  in  that  line.  My  nature  had 
been  too  concentrated ;  in  turn,  too  absorb- 
ingly interested  in  one  thing. 

To  make  the  most  of  available  "  points, 
it  is  necessary  to  generalize,  to  diffuse. 

If  that  were  the  condition,  clearly  !•  was 
on  the  high-road  to  success  I 


6O  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Going  over  soul  and  body  to  the  other 
extreme,  I  generalized ;  until  the  whole 
brotherhood  of  mankind  was  embraced  in 
my  far-reaching  regard. 

I  diffused ;  until  there  was  nothing  left  to 
diffuse. 

Heart,  house,  and  purse  were  thrown  wide 
open,  and  friends  trooped  around. 

The  caution  of  the  elder  Weller  to  his 
son  "  Samivel  "  was  thrown  to  the  wind. 

A  young  widow  at  the  head  of  an  estab- 
lishment, is  a  mighty  taking  thing. 

People  regarded  me  now  with  favor,  who 
allowed  my  "  shop  girl "  era  to  slip  from 
their  memory.  Yet  I  was  not  nearly  as 
deserving  their  esteem,  prodigally  scatter- 
ing, as  when  carefully  gathering.  So  goes 
the  world ! 

"  Revenons  a  nos  moutons? .  Just  here 
comes  in  the  innocent  art  of  cooking. 

If,  three  times  a  day,  I  had  been  obliged 
to  prepare  food  for  my  household ;  for  lack 


I  AM  A    WIDOW.  6l 

of  time,  the  quicksands  into  which  my  wan- 
dering feet  were  drawn,  would  never  have 
been  explored. 

Our  family  physician  "  hit  the  nail  on  the 
head  "  when  he  wished  "  I  had  not  a  cent 
in  the  world,  and  six  children  to  clothe  and 
feed."  I  shrank  with  horror  from  the  bare, 
idea  of  what  would  have  proved  an  Evan- 
gel. 

He  well  understood  two  things  ;  my  or- 
ganization, and  the  importance  of  necessi- 
tated employment. 

The  homely  lines  — 

"  Satan  finds  some  mischief  still 
For  idle  hands  to  do,"  — 

are  very  significant.  To  everybody  outside 
an  "oyster,"  work  was  the  one  blessing 
given  when  driven  out  of  Paradise. 

Unoccupied  time  is  a  fearful  engine  of 
evil. 

Hopkins'  hell  —  paved  with  the  skulls  of 
infants  !  Hades  —  peopled  with  good  reso- 


62  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

lutions  !  are  a  "  bagatelle?  alongside  the 
thronging  multitude  sent  to  the  "  dark  Plu- 
tonian shore,"  as  punishment  for  deeds  com 
mitted  through  idleness ! 

Upon   how  many  tombstones   might   be 
truthfully  engraved  — 

"Gone  to  the   Devil;    because   of — TOO    MUCH 
LEISURE  ! " 


CHAPTER   X. 

MY   EVIL   GENIUS. 
**  But  if  thou  nourish  in  thy  heart  the  reveries  of  passion." 

I  HAD  always  the  sympathy  of  the  little 
"  society." 

My  home  became,  as  it  were,  a  grand 
rendezvous  for  the  Methodists.  Social  gath- 
erings, class  and  committee  meetings,  suc- 
ceeded each  other. 

I  heartily  entered  into  the  spirit  of  them 
all ;  and  to  this  day  recall  them  with  pleas- 
ure. 

But  no  weather  stayed  the  tide.  I  be- 
came alarmed  for  the  well-being  of  my 
Brussels  carpets ;  and  in  a  happy  moment 
conceived  the  idea  of  confining  the  "  stew- 
ards "  to  an  old  rug. 


64  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I  see*  them  before*  me  !  planted  in  a  row ; 
full  of  finance ;  yet  careful,  in  their  greatest 
excitement,  never  to  allow  one  foot  to  go 
over  the  prescribed  limit. 

And  the  sympathy,  too,  of  one  dear  old 
lady ;  for  whom  I  reserved  "  a  little  cham- 
ber on  the  wall,"  sacred  to  her  own  use ; 
who,  catching  the  falling  mantle  of  my 
sainted  aunt,  bore  me  up  with  her  prayers  ; 
and  —  I  do  not  doubt  —  opened  for  me  a 
good  account  with  the  court  of  heaven ! 

I  had  failed  in  getting  my  husband's  life 
insurance. 

Not  liking  the  company  in  which  for  a 
number  of  years  he  had  been  insured,  he 
proposed  to  change.  The  papers  were 
made  out,  awaiting  the  doctor's  signature. 
Pending  this,  Paul  died ;  and  having  sig- 
nified his  intention  to  the  old  company  — 
neither  new  nor  old  felt  obliged  to  put  out 
their  money. 

Sorry  for  my  loss,  a  person  conversant 
with  the  circumstances  called  to  condole. 


MY  EVIL    GENIUS..  65 

Was  it  the  dead,  come  back  to  explain  ? 

A  faintness  as  of  death  came  over  me; 
out  recovering,  I  entered  into  conversation. 
I  found  him  educated,  well-bred,  a  gentle- 
man in  every  sense  of  the  word. 

An  external  resemblance  so  striking, 
could  but  argue  similarity  in  character. 

This  fact  immediately  arrested  my  atten- 
tion and- interested  my  feelings. 

Could  it  have  been  otherwise  ? 

Impulsiveness  in  youth,  is  often  reckless- 
ness in  maturer  years.  I  am  not  conscious 
of  ever  having  considered  an  act  in  connec- 
tion with  its  result. 

I  ought  on  the  spot  to  have  called  in 
Fancy  and  shut  down  the  gates.  I  did  not 
do  it ;  and  getting  the  upper  hand  —  sKe 
took  me  rough-shod 

"  O'er  many  a  brier,  and  many  a  brake,"  — 

until  with  bleeding  feet,  stripped,  peeled, 
and  torn,  she  has  set  me  down  on  a  barren 
coast. 

5 


66  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

But  I  anticipate  ! 

My  new  friend  was  religious.  This  made 
him  the  more  engaging  —  as  contradictorily 
—  however  much  I  may  have  followed  the 
Evil,  I  am  powerfully  attracted  towards  the 
Good. 

His  sympathetic  nature  called  forth  mine. 
In  telling  him  my  troubles,  they  disap- 
peared. In  asking  his  counsel,  I  again  had 
a  guide.  In  receiving  his  instructions,  I 
learned  very  highly  to  regard, 
i  All  this  time  I  was  aware  he  was  mar- 
ried ;  but  having  no  idea  of  entering  that 
state  myself,  the  knowledge  did  not  disturb 
me. 

All  I  asked  was  sympathy ;  friendship ; 
these  satisfied. 

How  arrive  at  these  without  companion- 
ship ? 

There  was  where  regret  came  in  heavy 
upon  my  soul ;  and  for  every  hour  I  de- 
tained him  from  her  who  had  a  better  right 


MY  EVIL  GENIUS. 


to  his  society,  I  have  endured  months  of 
torture. 

"  The  mills  of  the  gcds  grind  slowly, 
But  they  grind  exceeding  small,"  — 

and  whoever  goes  as  grist  to  their  mill,  is 
smothered  in  his  own  dust  ! 

Everybody  needs  a  change  ;  though  it 
may  be  from  good  to  bad.  It  is  an  unalter- 
able law  of  our  being.  Not  often  under- 
stood; seldom  acted  upon. 

If  I  had  now  taken  a  short  journey  — 
thereby  forcing  my  feelings  into  a  different 
channel  —  the  aim  would  have  been  accom- 
plished ;  and  I  should  gladly  have  come 
back  to  my  pleasant  home. 

Just  then,  too,  my  brother  was  continu- 
ally bringing  me  into  difficulties. 

When  himself,  a  better  -  hearted  man 
never  lived;  so'  kind  —  so  useful  —  that  I 
really  felt  I  could  not  keep  house  without 
him  ;  but,  like  the  cow  that  gave  a  good 
pail  of  milk,  then  upset  it;  the  poor  fellow 
in  his  cups,  undid  all 


68  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

He  borrowed  money  of  my  friends  who 
expected  me,  in  honor,  to  pay  it. 

When  sober  he  seldom  talked  ;  when  in 
liquor  he  was  all  talk  —  and  in  his  jeal- 
ous, suspicious  moods  —  got  me  into  more 
scrapes  than  I  could  well  manage. 

The  house  filled  with  company  was  his 
opportunity. 

I  well  recollect  upon  the  occasion  of  a 
party,  missing  certain  guests  ;  and  finding 
them  in  a  remote  room,  all  the  preserves  in 
the  pantry  before  them,  "  cheek  by  jowl " 
with  James,  with  one  spoon  regaling  them- 
selves ! 

He  often,  too,  attempted  to  frighten,  and 
in  that  way  get  the  best  of  me. 

Once,  however,  I  had  him  at  a  disadvan- 
tage. He  was  persevering;  if  he  com- 
menced a  thing,  would  be  sure  to  finish. 
I  had  a  row  of  poplars  I  wished  cut  down 
and  set  him  to  the  job.  All  through  those 
hot  summer  days  he  chopped  and  sawed 


MY  EVIL    GENIUS.  69 

sawed  and  chopped,  bored  and  salted,  until 
every  tree  was  "  done  for "  beyond  a  hope 
of  resurrection ! 

Would,  as  then,  my  only  brother  could 
be  with  me  now !  . 

Altogether  I  began  to  grow  uneasy,  dis- 
satisfied, and  tired  of  everything  about  me. 

Widows  of  four  years'  standing  will  sym- 
pathize with  me  in  this.  It  is  uncomfort- 
able to  be  constantly  reminded  of  lost  hap- 
piness. 

So,  without  duly  considering  the  subject, 
I  sent  for  an  auctioneer  —  and  sold  out ! 

My  house  being  well  furnished,  drew  a 
crowd ;  and  seldom  had  the  handsome 
"  Knight  of  the  Hammer  "  as  good  an  op- 
portunity to  display  his  peculiar  eloquence. 

It  was  all  over ;  my  life  at  M wound 

up  —  and  I  again  a  resident  of  Boston. 

In  this  connection  there  occurred  a  sin- 
gular thing. 


70  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

The  practical  is  uninteresting.  I  am 
eminently  practical.  I  am  eminently  unin- 
teresting ;  but  this  — 

One  Saturday  night,  my  small  family  in 
bed  and  wrapt  in  slumber ;  I,  alone  up  and 
wakeful,  went  into  the  dining-room  and 
seated  myself  at  a  large,  black-walnut,  ex- 
tension-table. 

With  paper  before  me,  pencil  in  hand,  I 
was  summing  the  probable  proceeds  of  the 
sale. 

The  utmost  stillness  prevailed. 

Suddenly,  within  one  inch  of  the  paper, 
there  was  a  heavy, ,  resounding  blow ;  as 
though  some  strong,  muscular  hand  had 
come  down  flat  on  the  palm,  with  all  its 
force. 

The  "  masterly  "  retreat  at  Bull  Run  was 
a  circumstance  to  my  exit  from  that  room ; 
ascent  of  those  stairs ;  bolt  into  my  moth- 
er's chamber. 

I  declare,  my  blood  curdles  even  now  as 
I  think  of  it! 


MY  EVIL   GENIUS.  Jl 

I  have  stated  the  fact.  I  leave  wiser 
heads  to  account  for  it. 

Only  —  as  the  IT,  invisible,  had  shaken 
my  calculations ;  I  wish  the  IT,  visible,  had 
so  shaken  my  bones ;  that,  stiff  and  sore, 
flat  on  my  back,  unable  to  move ;  per  ne- 
cessity, taking  time  to  determine  its  expedi- 
ency ;  I  had  been  saved  the  first  fatal  step 
of  breaking  up,  through  the  agency  of  that 
good-looking  auctioneer,  my  peaceful,  com- 
fortable  home ! 


CHAPTER   XL 

FROM  GOOD  TO  BAD. 
"  Refresh  thy  jaded  limbs,  return  with  vigor  to  the  strife." 

FOR  a  long  time  I  had  not  boarded ;  and 
I  thought  being  summoned  to  my  meals, 
ushered  to  my  seat,  served  with  rich  viands, 
would  be  decidedly  "  the  thing." 

Hotels  are  pleasant  —  but  my  diffusive 
period  had  quite  put  it  out  of  my  power  to 
indulge  in  that  luxury. 

Imagination  tided  me  into  a  regular 
boarding-house ;  second  or  third  rate ;  I 
never  could  make  up  my  mind  how  to  class 
it. 

For  a  while,  novelty  served  me  a  good 
turn.  Very  slowly  the  curtain  rose,  reveal- 
ing "  behind  the  scenes."  "  En  passant?  if 


FROM  GOOD    TO  BAD.  73 

it  is  your  fate  to  board,  never  go  near  the 
kitchen ;  if  your  reason  don't  fail,  your  ap 
petite  will! 

Presently  I  began  to  be  considered  an 
old  boarder.  Attentions  flashed.  Treated 

oo 

coldly  at  table,  if  not  on  hand  when  rung 
down.  Savory  morsels  all  reserved  for 
newer  comers.  Innuendoes  respecting  the 
quantity  of  food  consumed  by  some  folks,, 
and  statements  as  to  its  price. 

I  became  a  perfect  "price  current." 
Could  quote  all  the  fluctuations  of  "  Faneuil 
Hall  Market ;"  tell  to  a  fraction  the  cost  of 
butter  —  and  rise  in  sugar ;  when  lard  was 
"  steady  "  —  and  ashes  "  quiet." 

The  romance  of  boarding  was  at  an  end. 

Observing  how  profitably  this  woman 
pulled  the  ropes ;  determined  she  should 
pull  no  more  at  my  expense ;  and  with  an 
eye  to  the  main  chance,  I  suddenly  "  bought 
out "  a  house. 

A  word  of  caution  to  my  fellow-creatures 


74  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

about  to  invest  in  that  most  hazardous  of 
all  stock,  a  ''''furnished  dwelling-house." 

Take  up  every  carpet  and  examine  it 
against  the  light ! 

Sound  every  dish  to  certify  the  cracks  ! 

Sit  down  in  every  chair  to  try  their  legs ! 

Sleep  on  every  bed  to  test  its  vitality ! 

If  carpets,  dishes,  chairs,  stand  the  trial ; 
if  you  rise  in  the  morning  safe  in  wind  and 
limb ;  haggle  no  longer,  clinch  the  bargain. 

My  "  bargain  "  was  in  a  fair  part  of  the 
city  —  and  eschewing  boarders,  I  let  all  my 
spare  rooms  to  lodgers  —  merely  to  lodg- 
ers ! 

I  believe,  now-a-days,  it  is  thought  diffi- 
cult to  determine  a  person's  status. 

Although  I  had  undergone  "  an  experi- 
ence "  I  was  most  awful  green. 

My  house  seemed  well  filled.  The  occu- 
pants coming  to  me  one  after  another  to 
ascertain  whether  they  could  retain  their 
rooms,  and  on  what  terms,  appeared  satis- 
fied that  it  had  come  into  my  hands. 


FROM  GOOD    TO  BAD'  75 

One  thing  struck  me  as  a  little  curious. 
With  a  single  exception,  they  were  all  girls. 

Now  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  lodge 
gentlemen ;  but  they  were  here  —  so  nice 
and  pleasant  —  and  besides,  "  a  bird  in 
hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush  "  any  day.  I 
could  not  find  it  in  my  heart  to  send  them 
away. 

In  putting  things  to  rights,  and  making 
them  comfortable  generally,  a  week  passed 
on. 

I  thought  I  had  fallen  upon  a  streak  of 
luck  now,  sure  —  and  settled  myself  down 
for  the  winter  —  when  lo!  the  aforesaid 
"  exception,"  a  young  man,  appeared ;  and 
requested  an  interview. 

All  honor  to  that  young  man  ! 

Be  he  what  he  may  —  be  he  where  he 
may  —  I  thank  him  !  > 

He  asked  me  if  I  understood  the  nature 
of  my  house,  and  the  character  of  its  in- 
mates ? 


76  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Perceiving  that  I  did  not  comprehend,  he 
went  on  to  inform  me,  "that  I  was  at  the 
head  of  a  first-class  '  fancy  '  establishment ; 
with  a  first-class  set  of  kept  mistresses  un- 
der my  immediate  charge." 

Transfixed  with  horror,  I  heard  him 
through. 

They  had  been  deceived  by  the  retiring 
landlady. 

I  was  not  what  they  supposed. 

His  conscience  would  not  suffer  me  to 
be  kept  in  the  dark  another  day.  Under 
seal  of  secrecy  he  made  the  expose,  leaving 
me  at  liberty  to  act  as  I  thought  proper. 

It  was  midnight ! 

Falling  flat  to  the  floor,  I  passed  the 
night  in  an  agony  of  thought. 

To  clear  the  house  was,  of  course,  a  fore- 
gone conclusion. 

But  what  would  my  friends  say  ?  my 
mother  ?  my  child  ? 

O  God!  if  thou  hadst  not  sustained  me 
through  that  fearful  suspense 


FROM  GOOD    TO  BAD. 


77 


Morning  dawned.  If  never  before  —  nor 
never  since  —  that  day  I  saw  the  sun  rise ; 
and  by  nine  o'clock  there  was  not  a  soul  on 
the  premises  save  myself  and  the  aston- 
ished cook. 

I  was  smothered !  I  could  not  breathe  ! 
rushinsr,  I  threw  windows  and  doors  wide 

O  * 

open,  to  let  in  all  of  Heaven's  pure  air. 

I  had  been  to  a  great  deal  of  expense. 
The  place  was  in  fine  order.  However,  / 
could 'not  enjoy  it  —  and  selling  at  a  sacri- 
fice —  I  was  once  more  afloat ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    QUIET    TOWN    OF    L . 

"  Seekest  thou  rest,  O  mortal  ?  seek  it  no  more  on  earth." 
"  Man,  thou  hast  a  social  spirit." 

DISGUSTED  with  my  city  experiences,  I 
sought  a  more  tranquil  sphere ;  and  accord- 
ingly withdrew  from  "  the  haunts  of  men  " 
to  the  quiet  town  of  L . 

I  still  felt  alone.  Amid  all,  my  heart  was 
continually  thrown  back  upon  itself  to  con- 
sume its  own  vitality. 

From  year  to  year  I  became  more  and 
more  unhappy.  Every  change  seemed  for 
the  worse. 

Shall  it  be  the  same  with  this  last  ? 

The  few  friends  I  had  in  the  place  tried 
to  make  it  agreeable — but  their  efforts  not 


THE   QUIET  TOWN  OF  L .  79 

being   met   half-way,  were   discontinued  — 
and  life  was  at  a  dead  lock. 

Better  had  it  forever  remained  so  ! 

I  had  one  accomplishment  which  now 
came  into  play. 

I  sewed  well. 

That  I  had  been  early  taught  to  do ;  and 
as  a  child,  it  had  been  no  small  gratification 
to  hear  friends  praise  my  beautiful  stitches. 

Sewing  is  a  safety-valve !  many  a  disor- 
dered fancy  passes  off  at  the  "point  of  the 
needle.  I  always  pitied  the  sterner  sex  for 
this,  their  great  deprivation. 

But  they  have  their  cigars  !  and  smoke  is 
useful ! 

With  all  my  improvidence.  I  was  eager 
to  earn ;  and  so  pressed  this  gift  into  the 
service. 

I  made  shirts  —  fine  shirts — for  gentle* 
men  ;  and  the  opportunity  given  ;  as  in  the 
case  of  a  young  friend ;  I  have  no  doubt  I 
too,  could  have  secured  a  good  husband,  if 


8o  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I  had  wanted  one,  through  the  agency  of 
"  custom  sewing." 

I  presume  my  power  of  "  attraction  "  con- 
tinned  in  full  force. 

I  judge  so,  from  the  many  professions  of 
undying  love  poured  into  my  listless  ears. 

I  did  not  wish  to  marry.  It  was  sug- 
gested, that  after  such  a  lapse  of  time,  to 
change  my  condition  would  be  more  than 
proper;  I,  however,  did  not  care  to.  That 
was  enough. 

Even  my  strong  craving  for  sympathy 
had  somewhat  abated. 

The  fact  was,  I  had  now  got  thoroughly 
interested  in  my  shirts! 

I  received  them  from  an  establishment 
where  they  were  manufactured  to  order; 
and  have  often  wondered  if  my  male  ac- 
quaintance, in  slipping  on  their  well-fitting 
garment,  dreamed  whose  fingers  had  put  it 
together !  or  whether,  when  we  met,  they 
noted  the  close  scrutiny  to  which  they  were 


THE  QUIET  TOWN  OF  L .  8 1 

subjected,  in  my  desire  to  see  if  the  "  plaits  " 
were  all  ri^ht ! 


*&* 


"  There  is  no  peace  for  the  wicked !  " 
Less  for  a  widow ! 

In  this  secluded  place  my  Evil  Genius 
again  turned  up,  and  planted  itself  directly 
in  my  path ;  this  time  also,  in  the  question 
able  shape  of  —  another  married  man! 

What  was  up  ? 

Had  I  to  make  good  the  deficiencies  of 
my  wedded  female  friends  ? 

In  some  cases,  the  task  would  be  too  Her- 
culean. 

In  this,  I  did  not  make  the  attempt :  but 
I  must  here  confess  ;  the  good  looks,  the 
good  heart,  the  evident  penchant  of  the 
gentleman,  excited  an  interest  —  and  per- 
chance would  have  made  a  deeper  impres- 
sion —  had  I  not  previously  been  ground  to 
powder  for  the  very  same  offense  ;  thinking 


82  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

a  little  too  much  of  a  man,  sworn  to  an- 
other ! 

Experience  is  a  very  costly,  but  a  very 
good  teacher,  where  it  does  not  come  too 
late. 

/am  indebted  to  it — and  have  written 
on  the  most  obscure  leaf  of  my  private 
diary  —  IF  married  again,  look  sharp  to  your 
husband;  and  put  no  faith  in  that  arrant 
humbug  —  sympathy! 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    FATES. 

"  That  I  may  see  once  more 
The  splendor  of  the  setting  sun 
Gleam  on  thy  mirrored  wave." 

"  And  thou  Lachesis 
Dost  spin  the  thread  of  human  life  I" 

MONTREAL  !  Grand  in  its  churches  !  Its 
convents !  Its  religious  processions !  Its 
situation ! 

Whoever  has  courage  to  ascend  the  tur- 
ret of  "  Notre  Dame  "  —  fifteen  feet  higher 
than  our  own  Bunker  Hill  Monument  —  is 
richly  repaid  in  a  charming  panoramic  view 
of  the  city  at  his  feet. 

Spanning  the  St.  Lawrence,  is  the  far- 
famed  Victoria  Bridge ;  and  the  noble  river 
itself,  with  many  an  island  lying  upon  its 
calm  bosom. 


84  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

As  I  write,  memory  vividly  recalls  the 
happy  hours  passed  upon  its  waters ;  the 
fear  of  its  dangerous  rapids  being  lost  in 
admiration  of  the  scenery  along  its  shores. 

Here,  too,  occurs  this  singular  phenom- 
enon —  the  Ottawa  and  St.  Lawrence  flow- 
ing side  by  side  —  each  retaining  its  dis- 
tinctive color. 

Montreal,  Americanized  as  it  is,  presents 
in  itself  and  its  surroundings  so  much  of 
the  foreign  and  picturesque,  that  each  sea- 
son beholds  its  streets  thronged  with  trav- 
ellers seeking  the  cool,  invigorating  air;  to- 
gether with  the  thousand  objects  of  interest 
claiming  attention  at  every  step. 

And  artists  —  endeavoring  to  transfer  to 
canvas  the  mountain,  crowned  to  its  top 
with  foliage  ;  through  which,  glimpses  may 
be  caught  of  a  winding  road  gay  with  vehi- 
cles of  every  description ;  from  the  youth- 
ful occupants  of  which  —  it  would  require 
but  little  stretch  of  the  imagination  — 


THE  FATES.  85 

music  and  laughter  are  borne  back  upon 
the  wind ! 

Neither  does  he  forget  the  low,  quaint 
cottage,  adjoining  the  splendid  mansion; 
each  conspicuous  by  contrast. 

Nor  the  curious  costumes;  making  in 
appearance,  grandfathers  and  grandmothers 
of  the  young :  but  which  delusion  is  in- 
stantly dispelled  by  the  brilliant  eye,  seen 
nowhere  out  of  Italy,  save  in  the  Canadian 
born  peasant. 

Summer  has  gone!  Winter  approaches! 
Travellers  and  artists  hie  them  to  more 
congenial  climes.  Ice  is  formed!  The 

O 

waters  of  the  St.  Lawrence  congeal.  Snow 
descends !  The  mountain  trees  bend  be- 
neath its  weight. 

It  piles  the  streets  so  high,  that  from  op 
posite  windows,  neighbors  can  scarcely  see 
one  another. 

Unbroken  in  its  depth  —  unstained  in  its 
whiteness  —  it  lay  the  whole  distance  be. 


86  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

tween  this  great  city  of  "  Our  Lady,"  and 
the  obscure,  unknown  village  of  Laprairie. 

The  small  houses  are  far  apart ! 

How,  in  case  of  sickness  ? 

A  watchful  Providence  is  above  all ;  and 
has  in  equal  remembrance,  the  favored  in- 
habitant of  the  city,  the  lone  dweller  in 
the  hamlet. 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  —  though  the  storm 
raged,  and  the  wind  blew  round  the  isolated 
house  —  that  mingling  with  its  blasts,  an- 
gels heard  the  tiny  wail  of  a  new-born  in- 
fant ;  a  mother  thanked  God  her  agony  was 
over  —  a  father  clasped  to  his  heart  —  a 
son! 

Of  foreign  birth,  proud  of  his  ancestry, 
one  of  whom,  high  in  rank,  had  fought  un- 
der the  first  Napoleon ;  exclusive  in  his 
feelings,  naturally  and  by  force  of  educa- 
tion ;  Monsieur  Chaudet,  induced  by  the 
prospect  of  more  easily  acquired  wealth, 


THE  FATES.  87 

came  to  the  Canadas ;  intending  eventually 
to  make  the  "  States  "  his  home. 

But  a  "  winsome  "  maiden  interfered  with 
his  plans  ;  and  settling  down  — 

"  Far  from  the  busy  haunts  of  men  "  — 

his  wife,  his  books,  his  fields,  engaged  his 
attention,  until  a  new  ambition  was  aroused 
by  the  birth  of  the  little  Gustave. 

Very  early  in  life  the  child  discovered  a 
nature  sensitive  to  the  last  degree. 

Each  influence,  for  the  time  being,  en- 
tirely swayed  him  ;  and  the  transition  from 
good  to  bad  —  or  from  bad  to  good  —  was 
so  instantaneous  and  so  complete,  that  it 
was  amazing  one  identity  could  display 
such  conflicting  phases. 

That  the  boy  might  have  educational  ad- 
vantages and  mingle  with  his  fellows,  the 
quiet  country  was  exchanged  for  the  bus- 
tling city.  Laprairie  —  for  Montreal. 

Here,   witnessing  frequent  military  pa» 


88  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

rades,  he  acquired  a  taste  for  display ;  and 
although  placed  under  immediate  care  oi 
the  most  self-denying  Catholic  order;  the 
very  ritual  of  their  church  —  accompanied 
by  its  bewildering  music  —  so  cultivated  in 
him  the  aesthetic,  that  no  Parsee  adored 
his  burning  god,  as  the  young  Gustave  — 
"the  Beautiful!" 

His  disposition  was  generous.  His  heart 
tender.  His  talents  of  a  high  order. 

Under  a  father's  judicious  training  there 
might  have  resulted,  from  these  several 
characteristics,  a  perfect  whole. 

To  the  irreparable  loss  of  the  son,  the 
father — :  hardly  entered  upon  middle  life  — 
was  suddenly  cut  down. 

And  Gustave  —  the  gifted,  the  tender- 
hearted, the  generously  disposed,  the  easily 
influenced  to  good  or  bad ;  an  orphan,  be- 
side himself  with  grief — was  thrown  at  an 
early  age  upon  the  world,  to  receive  its  im- 
press of  virtue  or  vice,  as  his  all  important 
"  first  step  "  should  determine. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

LA  MAISON  DE  MAUVAISE  FAME. 

"  And  the  wages  of  her  sin  shall  be  hereafter.' 
"  Look  again  on  this  fair  girl." 

A  LARGE  house,  brown-stone  front  in  a 
fashionable  quarter  of  the  city. 

It  was  evening. 

The  street  was  brilliant  with  gas. 

Only  a  close  observer,  however,  could 
have  detected  lights  within  the  mansion. 
Heavy  draperies  thoroughly  screened  the 
windows.  At  intervals  alone,  a  curtain  sud- 
denly raised,  and  as  immediately  dropped, 
gave  a  glimpse  of  the  magnificence  within. 

In   truth,  everything  wealth   could  com 
mand  was  to  be  seen  and  enjoyed  there. 

Carpets,  so  soft  the  footfall  left  no  echo. 


9Q  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Furniture,  gorgeous  in  its  appointments 
without  regard  to  cost. 

Pictures,  selected  with  evident  care  and 
taste. 

And  mirrors,  from  floor  to  ceiling  reflect- 
ing back  this  beauty,  apparently  doubled 
the  size  of  the  already  spacious  apartment. 

The  hall  was  dimly  lighted.  From  time 
to  time  as  a  person  entered,  the  door  was 
hastily  opened,  and  at  once  carefully  closed. 

Well-dressed  were  they  who  ascended 
those  steps.  To  be  envied,  in  that  they 
were  Fortune's  favorites  —  and  possessed 
the  "  Open  Sesame "  to  even  that  aristo- 
cratic dwelling  ;  the  pass-word  to  which  was 
—  money ! 


"  Ho,  there  I  wine  for  a  dozen  I  "  peremp- 
torily called  a  young  man  to  a  retreating 
waiter  —  as  he  threw  himself  into  a  seat  be- 
fore a  marble  table,  somewhat  apart  from 
the  other  occupants  of  the  room. 


LA  MAISON  DE  MAUVA1SE  FAME.          91 

"  Lor !  massa  '  Gus '  —  you  ain't  goin'  for 
to  drink  all  that  ar  wine,  your  own  self?" 
asked  the  negro,  answering  the  order  as 
directed. 

"  Never  you  mind.  Clear  out !  —  and 
don't  show  your  woolly  head  till  called  for 
—  but  be  mighty  sure  you  are  on  hand 
then ;  "  impatiently  responded  the  individual 
thus  addressed. 

"  Goin'  it  strong  for  a  young  un ;  guess 
he  can't  stand  all  that  ar  liquor  an'  keep  his 
eyes  peeled ;  "  muttered  the  darkey  as  he 
closed  the  door. 

Rising,  the  youth  crossed  the  room  ;  and 
with  "  Come  on,  Dick !  have  a  drink  ? " 
seized  a  comrade  by  the  arm  and  dragged 
him  over  to  his  table. 

"  Ha  !  French  blood  's  up  !  jealous,  by 
Jove !  won't  let  me  finish  my  talk  with  the 
pretty  Louise!  Don't  want  anybody  but 
yourself  round  !  If  that 's  your  go  —  better 
take  her  away  from  here  —  or  you  wcn't 


9  2  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

have  her  long.  See  !  another  has  already 
got  my  place.  Harris  —  that  rich,  old  swell 
—  by  all  that 's  good  !  A  seat  longside  that 
girl  don't  get  cold,  you  bet !  " 

The.  taunting  words  were  unheeded. 
For  making  the  same  discovery,  Gustave 
had  pounced  upon  the  girl  called  "  Louise," 
and  fairly  lifting  her  out  the  circle  of  her 
admirers,  had  carried  —  as  he  would  have  a 
babe  —  the  slight  figure,  and  set  her  down 
close  by  himself. 

It  was  done  so  suddenly  there  was  no 
opportunity  for  resistance. 

"That 's  too  bad  !  "  exclaimed  the  person 
thus  deprived  of  his  fair  companion  ;  direct- 
ing a  fierce  glance  at  his  bold  rival.  "  Just 
the  cut  of  that  young  scamp,  how  do  you 
call  him  ?  Always  takes  exactly  what  one 
wants,  without  so  much  as  saying,  '  By  your 
leave  ! '  '  There  is  honor  among  thieves  ! ' ! 

"  What 's  that  about  thieves  ? "  inter- 
rupted Gustave.  "  Look  sharp  to  your 


LA   MA  IS  ON  DE  MAUVA1SE  FAME.  93 

tongue,  my  fine  fellow,  if  you  don't  want  it 
pulled  out  by  the  roots  !  All  is  fair  in  war 
you  know ! " 

"  I  say,  Harris  !  why  make  a fool 

of  yourself?  The  girl  don't  care  a  snap  for 
you,  anyhow  —  and  they  say  she  's  bewitched 
with  that  fiery  chap's  black  eyes  !  Console 
yourself!  —  my  boy  —  console  yourself! 
'  There's  as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as  ever 
came  out  of  it.'  Now  here  's  "  — 

"  if  you  want  to  console 

yourself,  do  it !  But  I  swear !  /  am  not  go- 
ing to  submit  to  anything  of  this  kind. 
We  are  six  to  one,  and  have  Louiss  I 
will!" 

"  Take  her  if  you  can  get  her,"  remarked 
Gustave,  quietly  sipping  his  wine ;  at  the 
same  time  brinsrinor  all  the  fascination  of  his 

o      o 

dark  eyes  to  bear  upon  the  lovely  female  it 
his  side,  "  Take  her  if  you  can  get  her  "  -  - 
and  raising  his  glass  to  his  lips —  "  Here  is 
to  your  success,  gentlemen ! 

" '  He  who  wins  shall  wear.' " 


94 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


"  Then,  by  Heaven,  you  French  devil !  1 
will  wear.  Come  on  !  "  and  with  one  bound 
clearing  the  space  —  Harris  had  his  hand 
almost  upon  the  girl's  shoulder  —  who,  half 
dead  with  fright,  clung  trembling  to  her 
companion. 

Almost  —  but  not  quite.  For  Gustave, 
throwing  her  from  him  —  eyes  blazing  with 
fury  —  sprang  to  his  feet ! 

Maddened  by  rage  he  drew  his  revolver, 
-  -  and  the  next  moment  would  have  been 
Harris'  last,  had  not  the  woman  —  with  the 
instinctive  devotion  of  her  sex  —  flung  her- 
self fainting  upon  the  breast  of  the  man  she 
loved  —  and  stayed  back  his  hand  from  the 
terrible  crime. 

The  uproar  now  became  general. 

Crazed  with  passion  and  drink,  oaths  and 
curses  came  thick  and  fast ;  and  blows  too 
—  some  of  which  fell  heavily  upon  tenderly 
reared  forms  —  all  unused  to  such  treatment. 

Murder,  after  all,  would  inevitably  have 


LA   MAISON  DE  MAUVAISE  FAME.  95 

closed  the  scene  —  but  for  the  timely  ap- 
pearance of  the  "  Madam  "  of  this  stylish 
hell,  —  who  with  the  warning,  "  Gentlemen  ! 
the  police  are  upon  you !  "  quickly  cleared 
the  room  —  by  passing  them  through  a 
secret  passage  into  the  next  —  outwardly, 
highly  respectable,  brown-stone  front ! 

Dick,  who  during  the  entire  fracas  had 
taken  the  best  possible  care  of  himself,  had 
gone  with  the  crowd. 

Gustave,  the  chief  actor,  had  resumed  his 
seat  and  again  addressed  himself  to  his 
wine. 

He  was  alone  with  the  girl. 

The  excitement  under  which  he  had  la- 
bored all  the  evening,  passed  away.  His 
voice  was  low  and  tender. 

u  Drink,  Louise  !  "  filling  high  her  glass, 
and  touching  it  to  his  own  lips  ere  he  of- 
fered it  to  his  companion  ;  "  drink,  *  mig- 
nonne  !  '  nothing  like  wine  to  drown  trouble, 
—  and  you  and  I  both  need  it  —  for,  to- 
night we  part !  " 


96  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

The  girl  raised  her  eyes  to  his  in  an  ag- 
ony of  doubt! 

He  answered  their  mute  appeal. 

"  Yes,  Louise !  we  must  part.  The 
shadow  of  life  has  fallen  upon  me.  I  came 
here  purposely  to  drink,  as  I  never  did 
before,  that  the  very  recollection  of  grief 
might  be  taken  out  of  my  soul.  But  it  is 
of  no  use  "  —  and  bowing  his  head  upon 
his  hand  —  he  wept  convulsively. 

She  watched  him  with  intensest  interest ; 
at  length,  laying  her  delicate  hand  upon  his 
dark  hair,  timidly  murmured  —  "Dearest! 
there  is  something  beside  wine  to  drown 
trouble  —  there  is  love ! " 

Her  voice  took  on  a  beseeching  tone. 

"  Take  me  out  of  this  place.  O,  Gus- 
tave  !  carry  me  far  away,  where  no  familiar 
eye  shall  see  me  ;  and  —  all  your  own  — 
let  me,  your  Louise,  be  the  one  to  bring 
you  back  to  happiness  ?  " 

The   youth   raised   his   head,  and  gazed 


"  Laying  her  delicate  hand  upon  his  dark  hair."  —  Page  96. 


LA  MAISON  DE  MAUVAISE  FAME. 


97 


long     and    earnestly    upon    the    beautiful 
pleader. 

"  No,  '  mignonnel  it  cannot  be.  I  am  not 
ungrateful.  I  shall  bear  with  me  till  my 
latest  hour  the  remembrance  of  what  you 
have  saved  me  from  this  night,  but  to-day 
the  knowledge  came  to  me  that  I  am  an 
orphan,  and  penniless. 
..  "  Nor  shall  you  remain  here.  In  the  pure 
atmosphere  of  your  distant  home,  by  re- 
pentance, you  shall  atone  for  our  sin  of  the 
past  few  months." 

She  scarcely  heeded  his  words. 

She  threw  herself  before  him,  and  lay 
moaning  at  his  feet.  She  entreated.  She 
implored.  In  vain ;  and  the  dread  convic- 
tion fastened  upon  her  that  she  saw  to- 
night—  for  the  last  time, — the  face  of  him 
she  had  loved  "  not  wisely,  but  too  well !  " 

At  last,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and  sorrow, 
Gustave  threw  himself  upon  a  sofa  and 
slept. 


9 8  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY.    . 

Turning  down  the  lights,  Louise,  kneel- 
ing by  his  side  until  break  of  day,  watched 
with  the  unsleeping  vigilance  of  love,  every 
movement  of  the  handsome  sleeper. 

Ah,  Gustave !  impulsive,  misguided  Gus- 
tave !  dost  thou  thus  redeem  the  ambitious 
hope  of  thy  dead  father  for  thee,  his  eldest 
born  ? 

Ah,  Louise !  devoted,  unhappy  Louise ! 
would  thy  tears,  thy  prayers  had  availed ; 
and  that  he,  upon  whom  thou  lavished  the 
deepest  affection,  had  returned  thy  love ; 
had  met  the  cravings  of  thy  fond  heart ! 

So  wouldst  thou  have  been  saved. 

So  would  I  have  escaped  the  misery  that 
was  to  result  from  meeting,  in  the  future, 
one  of  whose  very  existence  I  was  as  yet  in 
such  blissful  ignorance. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ST.  LOUIS. 
*  Thy  father's  friend,  and  thine,  who  tendereth  thee  tried  love." 

"  BY  Heaven !  I  am  in  luck.  St.  Louis, 
too,  has  a  free  lunch  ! 

"  I  say,  Charley !  what  an  institution  this 
is! 

"  How  would  a  poor  devil  of  a  fellow 
manage  just  now  if  she  hadn't?  every  cent 
gone,  not  a  place  to  put  my  head.  No  mat- 
ter. Food  before  sleep,  and  I  am  starved  — 
that 's  a  fact.  A  shame  too,  with  that  rich 
uncle  of  mine,  for  my  father's  son  to  be 
walking  the  street  in  this  shape !  " 

"  Uncles  don't  help.  Keep  up  good  cour- 
age, Gustave.  Better  times  ahead.  If  I 
had  a  dollar  in  the  world,  you  should  have 


IOO  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

half.  Come !  you  are  too  good-looking  a 
fellow  to  be  down  in  the  mouth.  Pluck  up ! 
and  walk  right  straight  into  the  affections 
of  some  rich  girl,  and  your  everlasting  for- 
tune 's  made  without  any  further  bother. 
All  I'll  charge  you  for  the  idea  is  —  let  me 
see  ? —  you  may  set  me  up !  " 

"  What  in  ?  —  food,  or  liquor  ?  —  the  last 
I  judge,  from  the  way  you  handle  it  —  but 
remember,  the  '  drinks '  have  got  to  be  paid 
for!" 

"  Yes  —  I  know ;  but  take  a  glass ;  it  will 
give  you  strength  to  look  up  your  fortune 

—  the  girl  —  eh,  Gustave ! " 

"No,  I  will  eat ;  that  is  free  —  and  I 
shall  be  ashamed  to  come  here  to-morrow 

—  so  must  lay  in  a  stock  while  I  can." 

"  Well !   good-by  —  give   us   your   hand  ! 

—  and  be  sure  you  take  my  advice.     I  de- 
clare '  Gus,'  —  I  feel  as  good  as  behind  my 
bar  —  now ! " 

The  two  young  men  separated. 


ST.  LOUIS.  IOI 

One,  to  walk  the  streets  in  absolute  want. 
Not  a  cent  in  his  pocket;  long  distance 
away ;  what  should  he  do  ?  Walk  forever  ? 
No  —  his  mind  is  made  up  ;  his  dinner  was 
given  him  —  his  lodging,  he  will  beg. 

"  But  for  the  love  of  Heaven,  landlord !  — 
only  for  the  night.  Just  think!  —  for  over  a 
week  I  have  not  slept  in  a  bed.  I  am  com- 
pletely worn  out.  Rest  assured  I  will  pay 
you  soon  as  I  can  earn  the  money." 

"  Lots  say  the  same  thing.  But  I'm  a 
tender  -  hearted  chicken  —  and  you're  an 
honest  -  looking  fellow  —  so  I  suppose  I'll 
have  to  take  your  word  this  time. 

"  Look  here,  Captain !  see  how  I'm  con- 
tinually bamboozled  into  harboring  these 
young  people  who  will  pay  me  when  they 
get  work.  If  half  they  promise  comes  in, 
I  shall  be  a  rich  man ! " 

The  individual  thus  addressed,  turned. 
No  sooner  had  his  eye  fallen  on  Gustave, 


I Q2  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

than  —  seizing  him  with  both  hands  —  he 
held  him  in  a  hearty  embrace. 

"  You  here !  —  the  son  of  my  old  friend 
begging  a  night's  shelter ;  why,  how  's  this  ? 
• —  landlord !  I'll  take  this  young  gentleman 
off  your  hands.  Thought  I  recognized  the 
voice  —  precisely  like  your  father's  —  don't 
speak  —  know  all  about  his  death  —  and  it 
shall  go  hard  if  I  don't  find  you  a  good 
berth,  for  his  sake.  Got  one  on  hand  now, 
by  Jove !  How  would  you  like  to  be  clerk 
—  Captain's  clerk  —  of  the  good,  staunch 
steamboat  Isabel,  all  the  way  from  here  to 
New  Orleans  ?  " 

The  young  man  overcome  by  his  feel- 
ings, could  hardly  trust  himself  to  reply; 
and  when  taking  out  his  purse,  the  Captain 
handed  him  seventy-five  dollars  —  his  first 
month's  pay  in  advance  —  with  the  kind  re- 
mark, "  You  youngsters  are  always  out  of 
money,  and  you  may  need  this,"  Gustave 
could  restrain  himself  no  longer,  but  burst 
into  a  flood  of  tears. 


ST.  LOUIS. 


103 


His  affairs  had  now  taken  so  unexpected 
and  favorable  a  turn,  that  he  entirely  forgot 
his  Mentor,  Charley's  advice ;  thereby  oust- 
ing that  free-hearted  young  person  out  of 
his  prospective  bar ;  and  taking  the  risk  of 
losing  a  rich  wife,  he  accepted  on  the  spot 
the  generous  offer  of  his  father's  friend. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  "ISABEL." 

0  I  know  a  maiden  fair  to  see, 
Take  care  ! " 

"  I  would  that  I  could  utter 

My  feelings  without  shame ; 
And  tell  him  how  I  love  him, 
Nor  wrong  my  virgin  fame." 

"  And  he  that  would  say 
A  pretty  girl  nay  "  — 

AND  the  Captain's  clerk  liked  his  berth. 

To  be  sure,  he  had  a  good  deal  to  look 
after  —  with  considerable  responsibility  for. 
one  so  young  —  and  what  was  new  to  him, 
a  "  gang  "  entirely  under  his  direction. 

But  he  had  already  seen  something  of 
the  world,  and  felt  quite  equal  to  meeting 
this  increased  demand  upon  his  ability. 


THE  "ISABEL."  1 05 

The  negro  element  was  his  especial  en- 
joyment ;  and  they  came  fully  as  much  to 
appreciate  him. 

In  the  frequent  stops  of  the  Isabel  to  load 
and  unload,  Massa  "  Gus  "  as  they  invaria- 
bly called  him,  could  get  the  allotted 
amount  of  work  out  of  them  with  less  driv- 
ing than  had  been  their  wont. 

It  is  barely  possible  they  had  an  eye  to 
the  extra  whiskey  which  they  would  be  sure 
to  get,  if  they  gave  satisfaction  to  their 
young  master. 

There  was  plenty  of  excitement,  too,  con- 
nected with  the  life ;  constantly  "  taking 
on  "  and  "  letting  off  "  passengers  at  the  dif- 
ferent stations ;  for  somehow  the  Isabel  this 
particular  season  proved  to  be  the  most  pop- 
ular boat  on  the  river. 

And  when  regular  duties  were  over,  com- 
pany, cards,  and  dances  whiled  many  an 
hour  of  the  passage  up  and  down  the  Mis* 
sissippi.,  i 


IO6  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

"  What  the  deuce  has  got  into  the 
women,  '  Gus,'  this  summer  ? "  sung  out  the 
Captain.  "  Have  they  all  taken  to  travel- 
ling for  a  living  ?  /  never  carried  so  many 
before  in  any  one  year,  by  Jove !  as  I  have 
the  last  four  months.  I  believe  it 's  you  — 
with  those  devilish  black  eyes  —  you  young 
rascal !  that 's  bewitched  them  all.  Well  — 
go  ahead  —  it 's  good  for  the  boat !  " 

Gustave  with  a  smile  turned  away ;  being 
pretty  sure  in  his  o*vn  mind  that  in  some 
instances  it  certainly  was,  either  himself,  or 
his  "  eyes." 

In  one,  he  might  have  sworn  to  the  fact. 

On  a  never-to-be-forgotten  evening,  as  it 
afterwards  proved,  being  short  of  a  hand  at 
Euchre,  they  had  called  as  usual  upon  the 
young  clerk. 

His  partner  was  a  lady  he  had  never  seen 
before. 

She  was  well-dressed  and  handsome ;  very 
agreeable,  and  remarkably  self-possessed. 


THE  "ISABEL." 

She  was  alone  on  the  "  trip ; "  and  in  that 
way  the  accidental  meeting  at  the  card-table, 
resulted  in  a  more  intimate  acquaintance. 

By  the  time  she  reached  her  destination 
it  was  quite  evident  that  the  "  black  eyes  " 
had  done  their,  usual  execution ;  and  that 
the  stranger  had  left  with  their  owner  — 
her  heart. 

This  flirtation  would  like  many  others, 
in  time,  have  passed  from  his  mind ;  if,  as 
the  Captain  said,  the*  person  in  question 
had  not  persistently  taken  "  to  travel." 

Every  few  weeks  she  made  tne  passage  ; 
always  alone ;  and  each  time,  making  no 
attempt  whatever  to  disguise  her  feelings, 
became  more  decided  in  her  advances  upon 
Gustave. 

"  She  showed  him  the  way ;  and  she  showed  him  the  way, 
She  showed  him  the  way  to  woo." 

It  now  began  really  to  look  as  though  he 
would  be  obliged  to  marry  the  lady  to  get 
rid  of  her.  The  case  was  desperate.  He 
consulted  his  friend,  the  Captain. 


IO8  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

"  Do  no  such  thing,"  was  the  blunt  reply 
"  you  are  too  young.     Ship  her ! " 

As  his  affections  were  in  no  wise  entan- 
gled—  and  he  had  other  plans  for  his  fu- 
ture —  that  decided  the  question  ;  and  inti- 
mating as  delicately  as  possible  the  exact 
state  of  the  case,  he  supposed,  poor  fellow, 
he  was  well  quit  of  the  whole  thing. 

Once,  he  had  broken  off  "  an  affair  "  —  it 
made  his  very  heart  ache  to  recall  that  — 
but  then  he  was  not  to  blame ;  he  could 
not  marry  her. 

This  however,  he  was  not  destined  so 
easily  to  dismiss. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

ANITA. 

Abra  was  ready  ere  I  named  her  name, 
And  when  I  called  another  Abra  came." 

"  She  can  both  false  and  friendly  be. 
Beware  J   Beware  ! " 

FOR  some  time  Gustave  saw  no  more  of 
his  would-be  love,  Anita. 

Finally,  towards  the  close  of^he  season, 
she  came  on  board  to  make  the  "  up  trip  " 
accompanied  by  a  gentleman,  whom  she 
introduced  as  her  brother. 

They  were  to  be  a  while  in  St.  Louis, 
and  hoped  often  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  Gustave. 

As  the  lady  appeared  to  have  given  up 
all  designs  upon  his  liberty  —  and  the  gen- 
tleman appeared  to  be  a  genial,  polite  man 


HO  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

of  the  world  —  nothing  could  have  been 
more  agreeable  than  this  proposition  to  the 
Captain's  clerk. 

When  the  boat  landed — and  Anita  es- 
corted to  her  hotel  —  the  two  new  friends 
strolled  about  the  city ;  regaling  themselves 
as  young  men  will,  with  a  cigar  there,  a 
drink  here. 

It  occurred  to  Gustave  that  the  stranger 
was  particularly  attentive,  urging  him  not 
to  spare  the  wine ;  and  once  he  thought  — 
but  it  was  so  quickly  done  • —  if  at  all  —  that 
he  immediately  dismissed  the  base  suspi- 
cion from  his  mind. 

At  length  Walter  proposed  going  to  look 
up  his  sister;  and  took  his  companion, 
nothing  loth,  along  with  him. 

Finding  Anita  rested,  and  already  seated 
in  the  carriage  preparatory  to  taking  a 
drive,  her  brother  instantly  placed  himself 
beside  her ;  calling  upon  Gustave  to  do  the 
same  ;  and  all  were  rapidly  whirled  off. 


ANITA.  Ill 

The  walk,  the  ride,  or  perhaps  the  wine 
he  had  drank  in  such  unusual  quantities, 
began  to  make  themselves  felt. 

Silent,  Gustave  was  glad  to  lean  back  at 
his  ease ;  and  if  not  asleep,  was  at  least  in 
that  dim,  unconscious  state,  in  which  the 
senses  scarcely  comprehend  what  is  going 
on  around. 

"  Anita,  mia  /  you  have  got  him  now  — 
sure  —  fast  enough.  A  fine  scrape !  to 
bring  your  brother  into,  just  as  he  has  trav« 
elled  half  over  the  world  to  see  you  once 
more.  Yes  —  a  devilish  fine  scrape !  What 
if  the  authorities  get  hold  of  the  affair  ?  — 
where  am  I  ?  —  and  you  too  —  sister  mine 
—  answer  me  that  ?  Now  in  Italy  "  — ' 

"  Hush,  Walter !  not  a  word.  My  life's 
happiness  shall  be  your  reward.  We  are 
all  that  is  left  to  each  other.  You  would 
not  see  your  sister  die  before  your  eyes !  — 
and  I  tell  you  again  —  O,  my  brother !  life, 
without  Gustave  —  my  heart's  idol  —  I  will 


112  AN  A  UTOBlOGRAPHY. 

not  accept.  But  have  we  not  arrived  at  our 
destination  ? " 

"  I  hope  so ;  for  really  I  begin  to  feel 
skittish!  Suppose  your  handsome  lover 
should  prove  rebellious ;  and  refuse  out- 
right the  felicity  of  calling  you  —  my  pretty 
— his  bride  ;  what  then  ? " 

"  Didn't  you  use  the  powder  as  I  told 
you?  O,  Walter!" 

"  Yes !  yes !  Don't  look  at  a  fellow  so ! 
It  is  all  right;  if  we  can  only  keep  him 
under  its  influence  long  enough  to  get 
through  this  confounded  job.  You  ought 
to  live  in  Italy.  Your  blood  is  too  hot  for 
this  part  of  the  world!  There  you  could 
try  your  hand  at  the  drug  business  —  and 
no  questions  asked  —  but  thank  the  gods, 
we  are  here  I  In  a  few  moments  I  shall  sa- 
lute you  as  the  cara  sposa  of  the  man  you 
have  risked  your  life,  and  mine,  to  obtain ; 
and  then,  poor  me !  over  the  water  —  alone 
—  never  more  to  see  my  darling  Anita  !  " 


ANITA. 

The  carriage  stopped. 

The  lady  and  her  brother  alighted. 

Gustave  followed  mechanically ;  still  un- 
der the  influence  of  a  powerful  narcotic. 

"  Hurry  up !  or  we  shall  be  too  late  after 
all ; "  whispered  Walter,  as  he  handed  his 
sister  up  the  steps. 

They  were  evidently  expected ;  and  im- 
mediately ushered  into  a  room  —  where  the 
one  occupant,  a  clergyman,  prepared  for  the 
occasion  —  was  all  ready  to  receive  them. 

No  time  was  lost  in  performing  the  short 
ceremony,  which  united  for  life  the  young 
girl  to  the  almost  unconscious  man  at  her 
side. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

* 

THE  CAPTAIN'S  CLERK. 

"  In  himself  ambition  is  dead." 

"  Or,  if  there  's  vengeance  in  an  injured  heart, 
And  power  to  wreak  it." 

"  WHAT  !  Gustave  !  my  clerk  I  gone  and 
got  married,  without  so  much  as  telling  me, 
his  friend,  and  his  father's  friend  before 
him  ?  By  Jove !  there  is  some  mistake, 
landlord.  '  Gus  '  wouldn't  serve  me  such  a 
slippery  trick !  " 

"  He  didn't  go  and  get  married,  as  I  have 
told  you  over  and  over  again.  Somebody 
took  and  married  him.  Don't  you  remem- 
ber that  tall  girl  —  with  all  that  hair  —  who 
went  up  and  down  the  river  with  you  so 
often  last  summer  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  of  course  I  do ! " 


THE   CAPTAIN'S  CLERK.  115 

"  Well !  that 's  the  one.  They  say  she  was 
crazy  after  your  clerk.  So  she,  and  her 
scapegrace  of  a  brother  —  just  got  home 
from  one  of  his  long  tramps  —  fixed  it  all 
up  ;  and  the  rope  is  spliced  !  —  tight,  too  — 
looked  out  for  that  —  minister  's  all  regular 

—  and   the   girl   has  got  her  certificate  to 
show  for  it." 

"  By  Jove !  that 's  outrageous !  what  I  call 
a  true  blue  '  out-an'-outer.'  But,  where  is 
*  Gus  ? '  can't  spare  him,  married  or  single." 

"  You'll  have  to  do  it,  Captain  !  It  seems 
by  his  own  account  he  was  drugged ;  and 
when  he  came  to  and  saw  how  matters 
stood  —  he  swore  he  wouldn't  live  with  his 
wife  —  no,  not  an  hour ;  and  took  an  awful 
oath  —  that  he'd  leave  no  stone  unturned 

—  till  the  cursed  knot  was  untied." 

"  Poor  fellow !  I  must  hunt  him  up 
Where  did  you  say  he  was  ?  It  won't  do 
to  leave  him  alone  to  bear  all  this  load ! " 

"  He  's  gone\>ff;  and  you  won't  see  him 


1 1 6  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

round  these  parts  in  a  hurry,  Captain,  I  tell 
you !  " 

"  Sorry.  I  always  knew  '  Gus '  was  a 
brick  —  and  —  by  Jove  !  —  I  glory  in  his 
spunk.  What  has  become  of  the  girl ! " 

"  O,  her  precious  brother  looked  after 
her,  poor  thing !  It  was  as  much  as  he 
could  do  though,  to  keep  her  from  taking 
her  own  life ;  said  she  couldn't  and  she 
wouldn't  live  without  her  dear  Gustave. 
Finally,  they  got  her  into  the  carriage  and 
took  her  home.  I  kind  of  pity  her,  after 
all.  She  's  a  mighty  handsome  piece,  and 
has  always  had  her  own  way  ! " 

It  was  as  our  old  friend,  the  landlord, 
said.  Gustave  had  indeed  gone  off  — 
nobody  knew  where. 

He  had  made  inquiries,  and  ascertained 
that  more  difficulties  than  he  supposed,  lay 
in  the  way  of  untying  the  "  cursed  knot," 
as  he  styled  his  forced  marriage. 


THE   CAPTAIN'S  CLERK. 


117 


The  whole  thing  was  legal  —  with  the  ex 
ception  of.  his  strange  statement  that  he 
had  been  drugged.  That  he  must  prove. 
There  was  but  one  witness  —  the  brother 
to  the  bride.  He  would  not  be  likely  to 
implicate  himself,  or  his  sister. 

So  the  whole  matter  rested ;  and  the  be- 
trayed man  —  too  sensitive  to  face  his  old 
associates  —  thrown  out  of  his  situation,  had 
nothing  to  do  but  execrate  his  fate,  or  his 
"eyes,"  which  had  brought  him  into  his 
present  unhappy  condition. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE    GRAND   ITALIAN    OPERA. 

"  Tell  me,  daughter  of  taste,  what  hath  charmed  thine  ear  in 
tousic  ?  " 

THE  theatre  was  ablaze  with  light ! 

Carriage  after  carriage  deposited  its  load 
of  beauty,  fashion,  and  wealth  at  its  door. 

Boston's  favorite  Opera  was  to  be  ren- 
dered by  Boston's  favorite  artists  —  and 
everybody  susceptible"  to  the  silvery  sweet- 
ness of  Brignoli's  "  Miserere,"  or  the  haunt- 
ing melody  of  Phillips'  "Prison  Song"  — 
was  present. 

From  parquet  to  ceiling  was  one  living 
mass  of  brilliant  and  interested  spectators. 

I  recall  the  depreciatory  remark  of  the 
great  Schiller ;  that  a  Grand  Opera  is  the 


High  up  in -the  crowd  stood  a  slight,  but  well  formed  man."  —  Page  119 


THE   GRAND  ITALIAN  OPERA. 

auto-da-fe  of  Nature;  yet,  always  to  me  — 
the  rustle  of  silk,  the  sheen  of  satin,  the 
costly  lace,  the  flash  of  jewel ;  the  happy 
faces,  the  subdued  laughter,  the  murmur  of 
voices,  the  restless  motion  of  graceful  forms, 
with  subtle  perfume  of  the  many  flowers  — 
are  fitting  accompaniments  to  the  impas- 
sioned, entrancing  melody  falling  upon  the 
ear,  and  hushing  every  xijther  sound  by  its 
wondrous  spell :  falling  upon  the  heart,  and 
stirring  in  its  depths  longings,  O,  such  irre- 
pressible longings,  for  the  Unseen,  for  the 
Infinite ! 

High  up  in  the  crowd  stood  a  slight,  but 
well  formed  man  ;  rather  above  the  medium 
height.  That  he  was  young,  both  face  and 
figure  disclosed. 

Graceful  in  attitude,  he  was  now  gazing 
intently  upon  the  Prima  Donna,  oblivious 
to  all  save  the  ravishing  strains  she  was 
pouring  forth. 


I2O  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

His  hair  was  of  the  darkest  dye,  and  so 
thick  as  partially  to  conceal  his  face.  Beard 
he  had  none ;  but  his  full,  black  mustache, 
hiding  his  entire  upper  lip,  gave  character 
to  a  mouth  otherwise  rather  feminine.. 

His  eyes  —  but  wait !  —  until  the  music 
ceases ;  and  the  cheering  of  the  "  house  " 
—  breaking  the  spell  —  causes  him  to  raise 
them.  Ah  !  in  color  they  match  his  hair  — 
in  size  and  brilliancy  they  rival  the  Italian 
songstress'. 

But  soft  and  tender  as  they  now  seem, 
one  instinctively  shrinks  from  the  lurking 
demon  detected  there,  instantly  suggest- 
ing— 

"  Land  of  the  Cypress  and  Myrtle." 

He  is  alone.  Speaks  to  no  one.  Recog- 
nizes no  one. 

At  length,  his  attention  is  arrested  by  two 
ladies  —  both  evidently  past  their  youth  — 
who  are  eagerly  discussing  between  the 


THE   GRAND  ITALIAN  OPERA.  121 

acts  the  respective  merits  of  their  favorite 
singers,  and  favorite  operas. 

The  younger,  after  a  while,  apparently  ac- 
quiesces in  the  superior  musical  knowledge 
of  her  companion ;  and  they  again  settle 
themselves  to  listen. 

The  young  man  from  time  to  time  re- 
gards them. 

His  eyes  seek  oftenest  the  face  of  the 
elder. 

He  would  be  puzzled  to  give  the  rea- 
son ;  as  there  is  nothing  at  all  observable 
in  her  appearance. 

Her  plain  dress  serves  but  as  a.  foil  to  the 
more  gayly  attired.  Eyes  of  an  uncertain 
hue  —  complexion,  neither  dark  nor  light 
—  but  mantled  with  the  glow  of  health. 
She  is  now  in  repose ;  her  whole  being  is 
absorbed. 

But  as  he  looks,  those  doubtful  eyes  flash 
with  expression ;  teeth  even  and  white, 
gleam  between  the  parted  lips ;  color  deep- 


122  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

ens ;  and  through  the  master  passion  of 
her  soul  —  MUSIC  —  the  woman  before  him, 
transformed,  is  beautiful ! 

Thus  they  met !    He  the  younger.     She 
the  elder. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

L'INCONNU. 

'i         • 

"  Whence,  and  what  art  thou  ?" 

THE  Opera,  successfully  inaugurated, 
lengthened  into  a  season  of  five  or  six 
weeks. 

A  mutual  acquaintance,  Fate's  chosen 
instrument,  bridged  over  the  separating 
chasm  with  the  formal  introduction  — 

"  Allow  me  the  pleasure,  Mrs.  Penning- 
ton,  to  present,  I  hope  to  your  very  favora- 
ble notice,  my  particular,  friend,  Monsieur 
Gustave  Chaudet ! " 

This  gave  the  opportunity  which  each 
—  unconsciously  destined  to  influence  the 
other  for  all  time  —  improved. 

We  both  equally  appreciated  the  "  divine 


124  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

art ;  "  and  every  evening  found  us  its  "  most 
constant  worshipper." 

From  casual  glances  —  resulted  smiles  ; 
slight  recognitions  ;  occasional  remarks. 

I  passionately  loved  music.  So  intensely 
indeed,  as  often  to  sit  with  closed  eyes,  that 
ho  attendant  "  stage  "  circumstance  might 
distract  from  the  harmony  itself. 

Still,  I  will  confess  it  lent  additional  in- 
terest that  the  handsome  Unknown,  night 
after  night,  eagerly  awaited  my  entrance  to 
conduct  me  to  a  seat. 

He  appeared  quite  as  much  pleased  to 
have  fallen  in  with  some  one  in  sympathy 
with  his  tastes  —  and  who  whiled  with  pleas- 
ant talk  the  expectant  moments  —  before 
the  "  rising  of  the  curtain  "  and  "  between 
the  acts." 

Music  is  a  wonderful  medium  for  the 
"  tender  passion  ;  "  and  of  those  very  sen- 
sitive to  its  power,  holds — at  times  — the 
Fate! 


VINCONNU. 


125 


Thus  we,  upon  the  opening  night  com- 
plete strangers  —  before  the  last  came  round 

—  were  far  on  the  way  to  an  intimate  friend- 
ship. 

Meanwhile  the  stranger  had  ingratiated 
himself,  and  narrated  many  incidents  of  his 
romantic  life. 

He  earnestly  begged  permission  to  call  at 
my  residence ;  as  my  society,  he  assured  me, 
had  now  become  essential  to  his  happiness  ; 
and  few  days  passed  that  some  of  its  hours 
were  not  brightened  by  his  presence. 

It  is  generally  thought  there  can  be  but 
little  sympathy,  no  love,  between  the  sexes 

—  unless  well  mated  in  point  of  age  — years 
being  the  received  data. 

I  cannot  answer  for  others  —  and  will 
frankly  own  —  I  had  never  known  of  but 
one  happy  connection  where  this  discrep* 
ancy  was  marked. 

When  thinking  upon  this  subject  at  all 


126  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

serious  objections  to  spending  my  life  with 
a  person  so  much  younger,  of  course  pre- 
sented themselves. 

But  I  was  peculiar;  in  that,  late  in  life  / 
had  developed ;  thus  bringing  my  feelings 
to  a  level  with  his,  my  junior —  who,  thanks 
to  certain  "  ev'enements  "  —  had  on  the  other 
hand,  matured  very  early. 

So  that,  after  all,  throwing  out  of  the  ac- 
count what  was  in  our  case  absolutely  in- 
commensurate time ;  we  met  on  the  com- 
ir.on  ground  of  high  health,  high  spirits,  and 
—  inevitable  consequence  —  a  mutual  fond- 
ness for  high  life. 

Friends,  alarmed  for  the  result  —  with 
the  usual  success  attached  to  those  little 
"  episodes  "  —  interfered. 

Although  it  seemed  even  at  the  time,  to 
my  own  self,  inexplicable  how  it  could  come 
to  pass ;  the  cravings  of  my  lonely  heart 
were  really  satisfied ;  and  —  a  shining  proof 
of  Folly  attempting  to  cope  with  Destiny 


UINCONNU. 


127 


—  I  was  left  to  desire  no  other  companion- 
ship. 

We  travelled.  Beheld  with  our  own  eyes 
the  grandeur  of  mountain  scenery. 

Saw  for  ourselves  the  vast,  old  ocean ; 
and  listened  long,  to  its  eternal,  solemn  ca- 
dence. 

Looked  together  upon  enchanting  land- 
scapes ;  and  through  the  aesthetic  our  hearts 
were  powerfully  drawn  out,  and  attracted 
towards,  each  other. 

My  friend  made  the  most  extravagant  pro- 
fessions of  love ;  and  those  professions  I 
had  no  reason  to  think  otherwise  than  sin- 
cere. 

But  all  this  while  there  appeared  to  be 
a  mystery  hanging  over  his  life. 

Of  his  past,  I  knew  nothing ;  save  what 
he  had  chosen  to  impart.  I  was  perfectly 
convinced,  however,  that  something  —  and 
of  a  serious  nature  too  —  had  been  with- 
held. 


128  AN  ^  UTO BIOGRAPHY. 

He  became  fitful.  At  times,  giving  ful 
rein  to  excitement  —  fearfully  wild  ;  then 
the  reaction  —  and  he  was  equally  gloomy 
In  both  phases  evidently  the  victim  to  un 
happy  memories,  which,  in  spite  his  best 
endeavor,  would  obtrude. 

I  sought  in  vain  to  penetrate  the  veil. 

In  the  kindest  manner  —  but  decidedly 
—  he  would  invariably  put  me  off;  until  I 
became  nearly  as  miserable  as  himself,  and 
deplored  the  hour  we  met. 

He  had  never  spoken  of  marriage  — 
which  was  singular  —  as  the  most  casual 
observer  could  see  that  his  life's  fruition  lay 
at  my  disposal. 

"  Tous  les  jours  je  t' attends;  tu  reviens  tous  les  jours, 

Est-ce  moi  qui  t'appelle  et  qui  regie  ton  cours  ? " 

• 

This  state  of  things  could  not  continue. 

A  denouement  was  at  hand. 

In   the   course  of  travel   we   found   our 

selves  at  the  delightful  city  of  G . 

I   had  that   day  privately  determined  to 


129 

bring  matters  to  a  crisis ;  and  unless  I  could 
satisfactorily  fathom  the  secret,  then  and 
there,  end  the  acquaintance. 

I  obtained  his  promise  to  reveal  all.  But 
upon  the  very  eve  of  disclosure  his  heart 
failed  him,  and  the  revelation  was  again 
postponed. 

Feeling  now  positive  that  indeed  there 
was  something  of  a  frightful  nature  con- 
cealed; I  demanded  to  know  the  worst, 
however  crushing  that  worst  might  be. 

By  way  of  answer,  he  displayed  to  my 
horror-stricken  eyes  a  poison;  which  he 
declared  should  terminate  his  existence,  if 
the  interview  resulted  as  he  feared. 

In  the  face  and  eyes  of  this  threat,  I  still 
insisted ;  and  unable  longey  to  oppose  my 
pleadings  —  with  hesitating  voice,  tearful 
eyes,  breaking  heart  —  he  spoke  of  his  deep 
love,  of  his  terrible  conflict  between  incli- 
nation and  duty,  and  confessed;  that  wirS 

9 


130 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


all  his  affections  centred  in  me,  he  was  the 
bound  husband  to  another ! 

Though  I  tore  out  my  quivering  heart ; 
honor  compelled  instantly  to  banish  from 
my  very  thought  the  man  who  had  so  en- 
twined himself  around  its  every  fibre ;  and 
leaving  him  to  bear  his  own  misery  as  best 
he  might,  I  went  from  his  presence  —  for- 
ever 1 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

AN    INTERVIEW. 
"  What  concentrated  joy  or  woe  in  blest  or  blighted  love  I " 

"  SCORN  me  as  you  will,  you  are  still  my 
husband !  I  risked  reputation  —  almost  life 
itself — to  call  you  mine;  and  never,  while 
I  breathe,  shall  another  bear  your  name  !  " 

"  For  the  last  time  I  ask  you.  Anita ! 
give  me  my  freedom  ? " 

"  Not  that,  Gustave  !  —  all  else  in  heaven 
and  earth  ;  but  not  that.  Would  you  drive 
me  insane  ? "  « 

"  You  were  already  mad  when,  to  ac- 
complish your  purpose,  you  committed  the 
fiendish  act.  O,  but  you  were  cunning ! 
No  witness  save  your  brother,  as  to  the 
manner  in  which  you  entrapped  me." 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

"  Gustave !  It  was  love  that  drove  me  to 
it  O,  forgive  me  !  Take  me  once  to  your 
heart.  Look !  on  my  bended  knees  I  swear 
I  never  loved  another.  Every  pulsation  is 
for  you,  and  you  alone.  Devotion  such  as 
mine,  cannot  fail  in  time  to  win  your  ten- 
derness. Grant  me  that  time  ?  By  all  your 
hopes  of  future  happiness  do  not,  Gustave, 
do  not  —  refuse  me  now ! " 

"  Anita !  I  came  here  for  no  scene  —  sim- 
ply to  obtain  my  release ;  but  since  you 
deny  me  justice,  hear  what  I  say  !  As  you 
love  me,  so  love  I  another;  and  had  not 
my  honor  prevented  —  in  her  ignorance  of 
my  great  wrong  —  she  would  to-day  have 
been  my  wife." 

"  And  you  dare  tell  me  this  !  Never  will 
I  grant  your  request.  So  help  me  God !  I 
am  your  wife.  As  you  will  not  permit  me 
to  be  your  Happiness,  I  will  be  your  Mis- 
ery. Go  where  you  will ;  with  whom  you 
will ;  as  your  Evil  Genius,  I  shall  be  for- 
ever at  your  side ! " 


AN  INTERVIEW. 


133 


"  Then  .be  the  blood  of  your  brother  upon 
your  own  head,  Anita !  By  Heaven  !  dead 
or  alive,  he  shall  be  made  to  confess  ;  for  — 
I  will  be  free  ! " 

Before  she  could  find  words  to  reply,  he 
was  gone ;  and  terrified,  lest  he  should  put 
his  threat  in  immediate  execution,  she 
rushed  from  the  room  to  warn  her  sick 
brother ;  who,  upon  a  sick-bed,  was,  alas ! 
doomed  by  a  Word  more  potent  than  any 
could  be  uttered  with  mortal  lips ! 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

WALTER. 

"  But  now  the  hand  of  fate  is  on  the  curtain, 
And  gives  the  scene  to  light." 

"  You  surely  would  not  betray  me,  Wal- 
ter! your  only  sister!  who  has  known  no 
other  love  than  yours  from  infancy  ?  " 

"Anita!  I  cannot  die  with  this  fearful  sin 
on  my  soul.  Think  of  it !  the  life's  happi- 
ness of  the  young  man  destroyed ;  not 
through  fault  of  his  —  but  yours  —  and 
mine." 

"  To  save  him,  must  my  name  be  made  a 
by-word  and  scoffing  ?  Walter !  kneeling 
at  his  feet,  he  spurned  me  as  he  would  have 
a  dog.  Is  it  not  sufficient  anguish  to  be 
thus  driven  from  my  husband  ?  and  to  lose 


WALTER.  135 

you  ?  for  you  are  dying  —  O,  my  brother ! 
—  I  never  harmed  you ;  and  I  know  in 
your  last  hours  you  will  not  rashly  do  any- 
thing to  increase  my  wretchedness  ! " 

"  You  say  truly,  I  cannot  live ;  and  the 
good  Priest  has  this  day  told  me  that  only 
by  confession,  can  I  hope  myself  to  be  for- 
given. I  must  not  bear  this  secret  with  me 
to  the  grave." 

"  Walter !  have  mercy  upon  me  —  upon 
me  —  your  sister ;  or  I  am  lost,  undone  !  " 

"  Dearest !  even  for  you  I  cannot  risk  the 
bliss  of  heaven.  Anita !  meet  me  there ! 
As  a  "  Sister  of  Charity,"  atone  for  the 
past;  and  with  the  blessings  of  the  unfor- 
tunate upon  your  head,  enter  Paradise ! " 

That  day — the  dearly  beloved,  absolved 
brother  closed  his  eyes  in  death. 

That  day  —  the  heart-broken,  despairing 
Anita  was  placed  in  charge  of  Sister  Irene. 

And  that  day — Gustave  received  through 


136  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

an  unknown  source,  in  the  handwriting  of 
Walter,  his  friend  at  the  last,  a  full  confes- 
sion of  the  wicked  deception  practiced  upon 
him  by  his  sister  —  and  by  himself —  th»>. 
dead! 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE    LETTER. 
"  For  a  letter,  timely  writ,  is  a  rivet  to  the  chain  of  affection.  ** 

WHY  could  I  not  altogether  have  ban- 
ished my  late  unhappy  experience  ? 

Why  not  —  to  the  end  —  have  remained 
independent  and  self-reliant  ? 

It  was  not  to  be. 

I  was  in  the  power  of  an  irresistible-  Des- 
tiny. 

The  Fates  were  busily  weaving  the  dark 
web  of  my  future ;  elaborating  day  by  day 
the  everlasting  truth, 

"  The  mills  of  the  gods  grind  slowly, 
But  they  grind  exceeding  small." 

I  suffered ;  more  than  I  chose  to  acknowl* 
edge. 

Was  I  never  again  to  know  peace  ? 


138  AN  A  UTOBIO  GRAPHY. 

Was  every  anticipated  happiness  to  be- 
come ashes  in  my  grasp  ? 

I  withdrew,  as  of  old,  into  myself.  I 
nursed  in  secret  my  grief.  I  no  longer 
found  anything  in  outward  circumstance  to 
give  pleasure ;  and  I  discovered  too  late  — 
that  I  had  ventured  my  all  upon  the  truth- 
fulness of  one  man  —  and  had  lost ! 

I  knew,  moreover,  that  man  was  wretched. 

All  could  have  been  saved  by  the  frank 
avowal  of  his  secret  marriage. 

True  —  fear  of  losing  —  had  been  his  ex- 
cuse for  not  informing  me  sooner. 

Through  this  selfish  motive  he  had 
blasted  the  prospects  of  both. 

I  could  not  forgive  ;  him  —  for  bringing 
upon  me  this  new  trouble ;  myself  —  for 
blindly  trusting  where  I  really  knew  so 
little. 

Meanwhile,  armed  with  his  precious  doc- 
ument Gustave  proceeded  at  once  to  lay  it 
before  the  proper  authorities. 


THE  LETTER. 


139 


His  previous  statement  being  so  well 
substantiated,  he  had  now  no  difficulty  in 
getting  from  the  court  his  papers.  To  his 
infinite  relief  his  marriage  vow  was  disan- 
nulled, and  he  pronounced  at  liberty ! 

The  "  cursed  knot  "  was  at  length  untied. 

But  what  course  should  he  now  pursue  ? 

How  convince  her  he  loved,  that  his 
honor  was  unimpeached  ? 

He  wrote ;  and  the  same  day  that  was 
telegraphed  the  all  comprehensive  word 
"  FREE  !  "  —  I  received  this  letter :  — 

"  Ma  chere  Amie, —  Blame  me  not.  The 
devotion  of  my  life  shall  prove  to  you  I 
am  not  unworthy.  Ecoutez  /  My  situation 
was  perplexing  in  the  extreme.  United  in 
marriage  by  force  —  to  as  it  were  a  stranger 
—  never  heeding  for  one  moment  her  ar- 
dent protestations  of  undying  affection; 
never  seeing,  in  truth,  her  face  from  the 
hour  of  the  illegal  ceremony  until  I  de- 
manded my  liberation ;  but  utterly  unable 


140- 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY, 


to  prove  all  this;  I  have  necessarily  been 
under  a  cloud.  Only  the  death  of  her 
brother  saved  me.  During  his  sickness  his 
burdened  conscience  gave  him  no  rest ;  and 
at  the  last  hour,  regardless  of  the  entreaties 
of  his  sister,  he  confessed  to  his  Priest  the 
whole ;  thus  leaving  it  in  my  power,  as  an 
honorable  man,  to  throw  myself  upon  your 
forgiveness ")  and  —  may  I  hope  ?  —  upon 
your  love.  You  are  older  than  I.  '  Quim- 
porte  I'age  ? '  Do  not,  I  beg,  give  one  thought 
to  the  idle  fancy  that  will  ever  affect  my 
feelings  towards  you  ;  for  before  my  Maker," 
I  declare  to  you  —  singular  as  it  may  ap- 
pear —  I  never  have  loved  but  one,  never 
can  love  but  one,  never  shall  marry  but 
one.  You,  you  alone,  must  henceforth 
prove  my  guiding  star.  Adieu  —  Je pens& 
toujours  a  vous,  et  mon  cceur  reste  avec 
vous  —  GUSTAVE.  " 

This  placed  the  entire  matter  in  a  new 
light. 


THE  LETTER. 


141 


I  had  now  but  to  consider  whether, 
against  the  judgment  of  my  friends,  I  dared 
take  the  responsibility  of  marrying  this  man 
so  many  years  my  junior. 

What  does  not  love  dare  ? 

Ignoring  all  difference  in  age ;  in  relig 
ion ;  in  circumstance ;  in  position  :  my  life 
all  passed ;  his  all  to  come ;  and  risking,  as 
never  before,  my  future  upon  this  last  throw 
—  I  again  married ! 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE    HONEYMOON. 
"  Honey-sweet,  but  lacking  not  the  bitter." 

IMMEDIATELY  upon  our  marriage  we  had 

secured  a  house  in  R Street  and  there 

collected  our  "  household  gods." 

That  was  the  happy  era  of  my  newly 
wedded  life ! 

Gustave  was  devoted  to  me,  and  to  all 
my  interests  ;  and  worked  hard  to  establish 
business  plans  upon  a  firm  footing. 

We  were  comfortably  and  pleasantly  situ- 
ated. 

Our  days  glided  peacefully  on ;  our  even- 
ings made  very  enjoyable  by  books,  music, 
and  the  society  of  friends. 

I  never  tired  of  listening  to  his  fine  voice, 


THE  HONEYMOON.  143 

as,  accompanied  by  the  piano,  he  sang  the 
ballads  I  loved. 

In  my  contentment  I  surely  refuted  the 
"  croak  "  that,  in  marrying  Gustave,  "  I  was 
rushing  upon  certain  ruin !  " 

And  we  were  happy !  We  had  a  honey- 
moon ! 

No  marriage  —  consummated  though  it 
be  under  the  most  disadvantageous,  irre- 
concilable circumstances  —  but  has  that. 

No  tw;>  —  however  thrown  together  in  the 
intimate  relationship  of  man  and  wife  —  can 
fail  to  appreciate,  and  at  first,  find  satisfac- 
tion in  the  new  tie. 

Novelty  lends  its  powerful  charm  ! 

Both,  too,  are  upon  good  behavior.  All 
that  is  most  agreeable  and  best  in  their 
"  make  up,"  is  unconsciously  displayed. 

Annoying  dissimilarities  are  not  suffered 
to  appear. 

Mutual  " politesse  "  conceals  these. 

What  a  pity  human  nature  is  such  uncer 
tain  stuff  that  "  familiarity  breeds  con- 


1 44  AN  A  UTOBIOGRA  PHY. 

tempt ;  "  and  that  knowing  this  —  individu- 
als, united  for  life,  should  ever  allow  this  all 
important  "poKtesse"  to  become  a  thing  of 
the  past ! 

The  subject  has  been  exhausted.  Every- 
thing has  been  written  and  said  to  impress 
the  fact  that  life  is  made  up  of  trifles  ;  and 
that  constant  attention  to  these  "  trifles  "  is, 
most  of  all,  essential  to  the  newly  married. 

JBurlesque  has  ridiculed  the  idea  of  a  man 
devoting  himself,  and  showing  after  mar- 
riage the  attentions  of  the  lover;  but  no 
burlesque,  no  ridicule  can  do  away  the 
"  fixed  fact,"  that  upon  these  attentions  de- 
pend all  the  happiness,  and  nearly  all  the 
affection,  of  the  wife. 

In  this  direction  I  had  no  cause  for  com- 
plaint. 

My  "  Don  Juan "  had  subsided  into  a 
most  exemplary  husband. 

From  the  time  of  our  meeting,  his  flirta- 
tion period  had  come  to  a  sudden  and  com- 
plete "  finis." 


THE  HONEYMOON.  145 

Still,  he  was  not  perfect. 

His  fiery  nature  had  developed  a  suspi- 
cious, jealous  disposition  that  the  merest 
word  excited. 

True,  he  never  raised  his  eyes  to  another 
—  but  what  was  not  so  satisfactory  an  ac- 
companiment —  he  never  permitted  me  to 
raise  mine ! 

Necessarily,  to  avoid  outbreaks,  a  good 
deal  of  valuable  time  was  spent  in  the  un- 
profitable exercise  of  "  walking  over  eggs." 

Taking  all  things  into  consideration,  I 
have  come  to  the  settled  conclusion  that  it 
is  not  desirable  to  be  so  exclusively  an  "  ob- 
ject of  interest." 

Shadow  of  this  " grande  passion  "  —  is 
Jealousy ;  which,  as  a  bane  to  domestic 
peace,  stands  unrivaled! 

There  is  no  reason  connected  with  it ! 

"  Trifles  light  as  air, 
Are  to  the  jealous,  confirmation  strong 
As  proof  of  holy  writ !  " 


146  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Per  necessity;  my  friends,  and  many 
harmless  pleasures  went  by  the  board. 

All  this  was  as  nothing,  however,  in  com- 
parison with  a  danger  that  threatened  to 
engulf  my  every  comfort,  my  every  hope, 
my  every  ambition. 

Slowly,  but  surely  it  approached ! 

And  after  months  of  torturing  suspense, 
the  conviction  was  forced  upon  me,  that  un- 
deniably well  as  my  young  husband  loved 
me  —  he  as  undeniably  loved  his  glass  bet- 
ter. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

MY    CREED. 

"  It  is  not  for  me  to  stipulate  for  creeds." 
"  By  giving  others  many  goods,  to  his  own  cost  and  hinderance." 

I  AM  Orthodox!  —  always  have  been  — 
through  thick  and  thin  ! 

I  believe  in  the  Lord. 

He  looketh  from  heaven  upon  the  chil- 
dren of  men  ;  and  —  in  His  high  Omnis- 
cience —  can  determine  to  a  dead  certainty 
who  among  them  needeth  discipline.* 

He  looked  down.  He  saw  me.  He  did 
not  hesitate  to  put  on  the  screws. 

With  Gustave,  domestic  life  began  slightly 
to  pall. 

Young  men,  the   least   bit  fast  —  under 


1 48  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

one  pretense  and  another  —  were  from  time 
to  time  introduced  into  our  circle,  to  give  it 
a  little  more  zest 

In  spite  of  my  remonstrance,  they  gradu- 
ally obtained  a  hold  upon  my  too  yielding 
husband;  and  occasionally  he  accepted  an 
invitation  out. 

Their  influence  began  to  tell.  Business 
was  neglected.  His  attentions  to  me  as- 
sumed a  little  less  of  the  lover-like. 

About  this  time  I  lost  heavily  through 
the  unforeseen,  and  as  it  affected  me,  dis- 
honorable failure  of  parties  with  whom,  dur- 
ing my  widowhood,  I  had  intrusted  consid- 
erable property. 

Misfortune  with  some,  works  just  the  re- 
verse of  what  might  be  expected,  or  of  what 
it  ought ! 

So  ours,  instead  of  retarding  the  evil,  but , 
brought   it   the    more    surely  and   rapidly 
upon  us. 

Gustave  became  more  than  ever  addicted 


MY  CREED. 


149 


to  the  use  of  intoxicating  drink ;  and  in  his 
insane  desire  to  drown  trouble  —  attached 
himself  to  a  set  of  associates  —  of  the 
"  most  approved  brand,"  to  lead  a  genial, 
impulsive  young  man  to  his  utter  ruin. 

"Josh  Billings!"  —  thou  art  a  Prophet! 
"  if  one  commences  to  go  down  hill,  every- 
thing is  greased  for  that  particular  occa- 
sion!" 

About  this  time,  also,  was  initiated  the 
one  —  I  correct  myself — the.  two,  great 
financial  errors  of  my  life. 

"  To  raise  the  sinews  of  war,"  I  placed 
myself  in  the  power  of  a  Loan  Office;  no 
—  not  a  Loan  Office  —  a  Vampire ;  who 
sucked  the  very  last  drop  of  my  heart's 
blood  —  with  all  the  unconcern  of  a  fox  — • 
contemplating  his  savory  morsel  —  the  be- 
wildered chicken  —  he  holds  in  his  paws !  " 

"  To  raise  the  sinews  of  war,"  I  placed 
myself  in  the  power  of  friends ;  obtaining 
help  hejre  and  there  —  hoped  to  stave  off 


1 50  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

impending  disaster  —  and  in  time,  by  aid  of 
said  help,  retrieve  all. 

Delusive  hope ! 

To-day,  rather  should  Executors  take 
every  dollar;  the  Sheriff  every  "household 
god ;  "  I  —  calmly  gathering  my  garments, 
and  emphasizing  every  note  of 

"  Shoo!  Fly  ;  don't  bother  me  "  — 

would  walk  into  the  most  comfortable  Poor 
House  I  could  find  —  take  the  best  room 
the  law  allowed  —  and, 

"  Folding  the  drapery  of  my  coach  about  me, 
Lie  down  to  pleasant  dreams." 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 
BOSTON'S  FEMALE  BROKER. 

"  Until  for  ourface  sweetness,  thou  too  art  drawn  adown  the 
vortex." 

PEOPLE  said  I  was  smart !  I  was :  a  lit- 
tle too  smart :  so  I  "  pitched  in  "  —  to  spec- 
ulation ! 

I  didn't  walk  in  —  nor  run  in  —  I  pitched 
in ;  and  came  down  head  first,  in  which  in- 
teresting position  I  have  been  ever  since. 

Permit  me  to  explain. 

• 

Bewailing  my  losses,  it  flashed  over  me 
one  day  that  by  furnishing  and  sub-letting 
dwellings,  I  might  do  a  pretty  good  thing. 

Besides  —  I   was   anxious    to   become  — 
a  broker !  a  female  broker  !  !  BOSTON'S  FE- 
,         MALE  BROKER  ! ! ! 


152 


AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 


With  gain  and  ambition  in  view,  I  pro- 
ceeded  to  hire  a  couple  of  houses  at  either 
end  of  a  well  known  street ;  so  that  — 
whatever  custom  the  one  failed  to  get  going 
up  —  the  other  could  catch  coming  down. 

I  was  fortunate  in  persons  to  run  the 
same  ;  and  plumed  myself  no  little  on  my 
sharp  arrangements  ;  was  particular  —  that 
whatever  leases  I  took  should  secure  me 
from  all  loss ;  and  was  equally  careful  — 
in  those  I  gave. 

Of  course  I  charged  a  stiff  price  ;  wasn't 
that  the  most  important  part  of  the  busi- 
ness ? 

Making  up  my  mind  not  to  bother ;  not 
to  see,  in  fact,  my  tenants;  only  as  from 
time  to  time  I  collected  my  rent,  I  sailed 
off  in  rather  an  airy  frame  of  mind. 

All  went  well.  I  began  to  be  encour- 
aged. 

From  the  house  at  the  "  upper  end  "  I  re« 
ceived  my  first  month's  pay. 


BOSTON'S  FEMALE  BROKER. 


153 


That  was  square  ;  but  I  guess  it  took  all 
the  poor  woman  could  rake  and  scrape ;  for 
when  I  called  at  the  end  of  the  next  month 
—  she  had  gone 

"  Where  the  Woodbine  twineth." 

The  house  had  changed  hands  three  times ; 
and  each  lot  had  set  up  housekeeping  on 
their  "  own  hook,"  well  supplied  with  my 
furniture,  beds  and  bedding ! 

It  then  occurred  to  me,  it  would  pay  to 
look  after  furnished  houses  oftener  than 
once  a  month. 

"  But  I  had  still  a  "  forlorn  hope."  The 
person  at  the  "  lower  end  ;  "  no  sooner  had 
she  taken  possession,  however,  than  the  fur- 
nace, which  had  faithfully  done  duty  any 
number  of  years,  gave  out. 

Generously,  I  immediately  put  a  new  one 
in  its  place  at  my  own  expense  —  privately 
thinking  all  the  while  —  my  landlord  should 
foot  that  little  bill. 

I  had  reckoned  without  my  host. 

"Not  for  Joe!  O,  no,  no!" 


154  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

nor  for  me ;  and  it  took  precisely  the  money 
I  had  received  from  the  other  house  to  set 
this  one  going ! 

So  it  went  on.  If  those  two  houses  had 
been  sworn  partners,  they  could  not  have 
played  better  into  each  other's  hands. 

"  Paul  paid  Peter "  ;  and  "  Peter  paid 
Paul " ;  until  there  was  nothing  left  to 
pay  either  "  Peter  "  or  "  Paul "  ! 

Distracted,  I  threw  them  both  on  to  the 
market ! 

Napoleon,  after  his  disasters,  gathered 
himself  and  risked  his  final  throw  upon 
Waterloo. 

The  "  Oakes  Ames  Co."  suspended  ;  but 
with  shovel  in  hand,  have  resumed  their 
digging. 

/  too,  was  on  my  mettle ! 

It  was  still  my  determination  to  spec- 
ulate; in  Howard  —  not  State  Street.  I 
have  been  told  there  is  a  difference  ;  do  not 
confound  them  —  Howard  Street — if  you 
please ! 


BOSTON'S  FEMALE  BROKER.  155 

I  outdid  myself;  and  with  unusual  sa- 
gacity selected  a  house  completely  out  of 
order  from  top  to  bottom. 

We  commenced  this  time  at  the  top. 

In  dull  times,  set  workmen  to  repair  and 
there  is  no  knowing  where  they  will  end. 
I  have  consulted  competent  judges,  and 
they  tell  me  there  is  not  a  tighter  roof  in 
all  Boston. 

An  underpinning  is  considered  desirable. 
That  was  attended  to. 

The  first  person  after  the  premises  was 
an  Irishwoman,  of  the  better  class ;  who 
was  all  ready  to  come  right  in  with  a  large 
family  of  boarders,  about  sixty  I  think; 
hard-working  men ;  who  must  have  their 
meals  three  times  a  day;  at  just  such  an 
hour ;  to  the  minute. 

The  range  would  not  go !  I  saw  it  my- 
self; not  a  potato  could  be  coaxed  to  bake, 
not  a  sausage  to  fry ;  and  right  before 
the  face  and  eyes  of  those  sixty  hungry 


156  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

wretches,, waiting  for  their  dinner,  the  old 
thing  was  marched  off,  and  a  new  stove  set 
up ! 

Outside  repairs,  mine.     Inside,  hers. 

Poor  soul !  the  expense  came  hard  on  her 
the  first  month  ;  and  as  she  didn't  say  any- 
thing about  the  rent,  /  couldn't  find  it  in 
my  heart  to  mention  it. 

I  let  it  slip  ! 

The  second  and  third  month  it  slipped ! 

I  slipped,  too ! 

But  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  month,  I 
had  the  satisfaction  of  slipping  her  —  bag 
and  baggage  —  stove  and  boarders  —  on  to 
the  sidewalk  1 

My  investments  were  exciting,  if  not 
profitable. 

The  "  real  estate  "  business  was  getting 
red-hot ! 

I  longed  for  the  wilderness  ;  for  some  far 
off,  lone  isle. 

I  would  have  married  Robinson  Crusoe 
on  the  spot. 


BOSTON'S  FEMALE  BROKER.  157 

No  such  relief  was  at  hand ;  and  walking 
right  through  the  ingenious  theories  of 
Lucy  Stone  —  Susan  B.  Anthony  —  and 
Antoinette  Brown  —  I  precipitately  retired  ; 
not  with  "honors  thick  about  me,"  but 
with  dishonored  notes  so  filling  the  air,  I 
couldn't  see  my  way  home. 

Never  again  shall  the  "  Siren  Song"  of 
"  Female  Ability  "  induce  me  to  run  with 
my  brother  financier  —  as  rival  contestant 
for  the  prize  —  money. 

No !  Leaving  him  legitimately  to  make 
—  I  will  agree,  quite  as  fast,  in  the  most 
lady-like  manner  —  to  spend  it ! 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

OLLA  PODRIDA. 
"  Many  thoughts,  many  thoughts  —  who  can  catch  them  all  ?  " 

MATTERS  now  began  to  look  dark  indeed. 
Everything  I  touched  went  under.  How- 
ever much  advice  and  acute  judgment 
were  brought -to  bear,  each  investment  fell 
through. 

With  the  same  implicit  faith  I  put  in  the 
words  of  Mr.  "  Billings,"  do  I  believe  GREASE 
—  at  that  period  —  entered  largely  into  my 
own  composition ;  or  I  never  could,  in  every 
case,  have  gone  down  so  rapidly  and  —  so 
slick  / 

A  change  became  absolutely  necessary. 

We  could  remain  no  longer  in  R Street. 

Debts  increased  every  day;  credit  grew 


OLLA  POD  RID  A.  159 

*  beautifully  less  " ;  Gustave's  dissipated  hab- 
its more  confirmed.  Friends  turned  the  cold 
shoulder  with  the  cheerful  remark,  "  I  TOLD 
YOU  so !"  —  and  under  these  exhilarating  cir- 
cumstances —  I  made  another  move. 

My  Evil  Genius,  never  for  one  moment 
caught  napping,  led  me  into  N Street. 

What  could  I  do  in  N Street  ? 

I  looked  around.  My  situation  was  des- 
perate. I  recalled  with  distrust  the  horri- 
ble old  house  in  Howard  Street;  the  fur- 
nished house  in  Harrison  Avenue ;  the 
lodging-house  in  Washington  Street;  and 
concluded  in  N Street,  by  way  of  vari- 
ety, to  start  a  boarding-house. 

I  had  been  in  New  York  —  and  came 
home  determined  to  engraft  the  best  qual 
ities  of  those  dashing  institutions  —  upon 
the  milder  outcroppings  of  the  same  here. 

Now  you  may  advertise  until  the  "  Her- 
ald "  retires,  rich  upon  the  profit  of  your  in- 
vestment, and  not  fill  your  house. 


1 6O  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I  just  did  this ;  wrote  in  a  fine,  lady-like 
hand  "  Furnished  Rooms  to  let v  —  "  Table 
Boarders  wanted  "  —  and  genteelly  pasted 
the  notice  outside  my  door. 

There  is  fashion  in  the  width  ;  two  inches 
there;  four  inches  here.  In  reckless  ex- 
penditure of  paper,  Boston  goes  New  York 
double ! 

My  table  rapidly  filled  up. 

It  did  me  good  to  look  upon  that  long 
line  of  thin  forms,  rounding  each  day  at  my 
expense. 

Little  did  I  think  I  was  filling  up  a  set  of 
half-starved  boarders  —  who,  as  soon  as  they 
got  a  streak  of  fat  —  would  make  for  more 
aristocratic  quarters. 

It  is  one  peculiarity  of  this  business.  All 
new  boarding-houses  go  through  the  same 
ordeal.  I  have  changed  locality  five  times 
—  and  know! 

Now  —  I  am  posted ;  the  minute  I  clap 
my  eyes  on  an  "  applicant,"  I  can  tell  how 
much  he  will  hold  —  to  a  biscuit ! 


OLLA   PODRIDA.  l6l 

I  had  partaken  of  so  much  HASH  myself, 
that  when  I  first  commenced,  I  couldn't  find 
it  in  my  heart  to  offer  it  to  a  stranger. 

I  call  upon  you  —  O,  my  boarders!  — 
first  and  last,  seventy-five  in  number ;  from 
your  scattered  homes,  answer  me  !  Did  I 
oftener  than  seven  times  a  week  set  before 
you,  in  its  decent  proportions  of  meat  and 
potato,  that  much  abused  dish  ? 

Be  genteel  or  die !  I  followed  this  to  the 
letter ;  so  of  course  —  gentlemen  —  "  only ! " 

Whoever  heard  of  a  genteel  boarding- 
house  harboring  women  ? 

Young  ladies  are  "  fuss  and  feathers ; " 
and  married  ladies  —  well !  —  "  Don't  you 
think  my  dear  there  is  a  falling  off  in  Miss 
Jones'  table  ?  —  hadn't  we  better  be  looking 
out  ? " 

Give  me  men !  I  say  it  boldly ;  you  can 
impose  upon  them ;  you  can't  upon  women ! 

How  some  boarders  entwine  themselves 


1 62  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

around  the  affections !  Parting,  is  like  tak 
ing  your  heart's  blood  ;  and  leaving  behind 
them  a  blank,  they  go ;  bearing  that  most 
sacred  of  trusts,  an  unpaid  board  bill ;  with 
butter  at  fifty  cents  the  pound  ! 

Mine  have  "  entwined,"  often.  Here  is  a 
case  in  point. 

I  once  lodged  and  fed  a  party  of  "  Pro- 
fessionals." It  seems  but  as  yesterday. 
Didn't  they  make  times  lively?  Their 
names  are  engraven  on  my  heart  —  and  on 
my  slate  —  for  three  left,  owing  me  thirty- 
six  dollars ! 

The  fourth !  Let  me  do  him  exact  jus- 
tice. 

From  the  fashionable  time  in  the  morn- 
ing —  when,  alone,  he  ate  his  aristocratic 
breakfast  of  one  egg  and  a  slice  of  toast  — 
all  through  the  day ;  up  to  the  hour  of  hid- 
ing his  handsome  face  under  a  "  mask  of 
color ; "  and  with  his  witticisms  throwing  the 
"  house  "  into  convulsions  ;  he  was  a  perfect 
gentleman. 


OLLA   POD  RID  A.  163 

Pleasant  to  all ;  prompt  to  pay ;  a  very 
small  eater ;  he  was  indeed  a  model  boarder. 
But  —  by  that  eternal  law  of  compensation 
following  a  landlady  the  world  over  —  the 
man  who  sat  next  him,  ate  his  weight  three 
times  a  day ! 

I  have  hinted  that  my  domestic  education 
had  been  somewhat  neglected. 

Still,  I  knew  a  thing  or  two  —  and  what 
I  did  know  —  I  never  intrusted  to  others. 

It  became  necessary  to  transfer  the  feath- 
ers from  an  old  bed,  to  a  new. 

Waiting  for  a  rainy  day,  that  I  might  be 
secure  from  the  interruption  of  calls,  I  shut 
myself  up  in  a  small  room  with  my  two 
ticks. 

Mother  had  told  me  it  was  a  good  plan 
to  leave  part  of  each  open  —  and  inserting 
one  into  the  other  —  gently  force  the  feath- 
ers from  the  old  to  the  new. 

I  was  not  to  be  trammeled  with  any  such 
half-way  idea ! 


1 64  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I  ripped  open  one  entire  end,  and  boldly 
emptied  the  feathers. 

Whew !  I  was  in  for  it ! 

Nothing  daunted,  with  both  hands  I  went 
to  work.  The  day  passed  on.  The  job 
was  finished.  But  myself!  — 

From  the  crown  of  my  head  to  the  sole 
of  my  foot  — feathers  ! 

Eyes,  nose,  mouth,  ears,  hair,  eyebrows 
• — feathers  ! 

Like  Nebuchadnezzar,  I  emerged :  thank- 
ful for  the  next  three  months  —  to  go  to 
grass  ! 

Gentility  said,  colored  help  !  I  submitted. 
My  prime  minister,  Samuel  Adams,  was  as 
black  as  the  Ace  of  Spades. 

Like  all  prime  ministers,  he  ruled.  I 
was  a  mere  puppet  —  useful  on  Saturday 
nights  —  to  "  pay  off." 

He  would  notify  me  when  he  intended  to 
go  out  "  perzactly  ;  "  but  failed  to  "  put  in 
an  appearance  "  when  expected  home. 


'One  night  lie  took  his  girl  and  his  clothes  to  a  concert."  —  Page  165. 


DLL  A   POD  RID  A.  165 

He  was  musical  —  no  matter  what  was 
up  —  negro  melodies  came  "  in  at  the 
death ! " 

He  had  a  girl  —  more  than  that  —  he 
had  a  new  suit  of  clothes.  One  night  he 
took  his  girl  and  his  clothes  to  a  concert. 
Light  pants  and  vest ;  dark  coat,  to  match 
his  skin;  sleeve-buttons,  he  sent  forme  to 
put  them  in;  and  may  I  never  see  a  rose- 
bud, if  he  didn't  have  one  in  his  button- 
hole! 

During  his  engagement  at  the  Howard 
Athenaeum  I  boarded  Pfau,  the  Russian 
gymnast. 

It  was  Sam's  ambition  to  rival  him. 

Awakened  one  morning  by  a  shuffling 
sound,  I  stole  softly  down.  He  had  ar- 
ranged his  apparatus  —  consisting  of  a  rope 
swung  in  the  wood-shed  —  and  I  caught 
him  in  the  very  act  of  making  his  fearful 
leap,  from  the  top  stair  of  the  back  steps  to 
the  hen-coop ! 


1 66  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

If  he  had  missed  his  footing,  he  would 
have  fallen  just  three  feet,  four  inches. 

In  the  matter  of  food  he  was  fastidious. 
Eggs  he  couldn't  bear  the  sight  of, —  I  had 
nine  hens  and  one  rooster  —  and  I  never 
saw  an  egg  while  Sam  was  in  the  house ! 

But  the  milk!  that  corn  he  acknowl- 
edged; and  if  he -couldn't  go  out  as  wet 
nurse,  it  was  not  because  he  had  NO  MILK  ! 

One  colored  brother  will  do,  but  five ! 
My  kitchen  was  the  "  blackness  of  dark- 
ness." I  couldn't  see  through  it ! 

The  next  experiment  was  not  much  more 
satisfactory.  All  white,  to  be  sure ;  that 
was  something  in  the  way  of  looks !  I  felt 
too,  that  somehow  the  dinner  would  come 
on  to  the  table ;  but  at  what  a  sacrifice 
of  the  "  raw  material."  And  "  back-door 
friends  "  was  a  disagreeable  feature  —  ne- 
cessitating the  appointment  of  a  "  Vigilance 
Committee  "  —  if  the  saving  of  cold  victuals 
was  any  object. 


OLLA  POD  RID  A.  l6/ 

But  trying  to  mingle  the  Hibernian  and 
African  in  the  way  of  help  —  I  am  free  to 
confess  —  was  the  most  unmitigated  failure 
of  all. 

They  were  set  like  a  flint  against  each 
other.  In  attempting  to  elicit  one  spark  of 
united  assistance,  I  only  set  fire  to  myself. 

"  Gentlemen !  I  put  the  question !  "  Can 
the  mistress  of  a  boarding-house  know  any- 
thing outside  her  kitchen  ?  Above  all  —  can 
she  be  expected  to  improve  her  mind  ?  to 
read  ?  —  dear  me !  one  eye  on  the  sugar 
and  the  other  on  the  spoons,  where  's  her 
chance  ? 

Descending  from  the  literary  stand-point, 
I  suppose  there  is  no  gainsaying  that  some 
houses,  in  spite  the  hindrances,  do  succeed ; 
and  the  landladies  thereof —  rising,  Phoe- 
nix-like, above  the  perplexity  of  help ;  the 
inconvenience  of  loss ;  smiling  and  popular 
—  wear  pink  ribbons  ! 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

PANDEMONIUM. 

"  How  have  I  sinned  that  this  affliction 
Should  light  so  heavy  on  me  ? ;' 

"  In  the  scene  that  ensued 
I  did  not  take  a  hand.  " 

I  HAD  discovered  pink  was  not  my  color 
I   always  wore  black ;  and  in  mourning 
would  prefer  to  drop  the  curtain ;  leave  to 
imagination  the   "  after  -piece ;"   but  inex- 
orable Truth  compels  me  to  go  on. 

Our  house  was  large  ;  the  expense  of  fur- 
nishing had  been  heavy.  The  locality  too, 
was  unfortunate;  still,  at  'first,  as  I  have 
said,  there  appeared  to  be  no  difficulty  in 
getting  boarders,  hungry  table  boarders ; 
and  I  flatter  myself  that  alone,  I  could  have 
made  this  last  experiment  pay. 


PANDEMONIUM.  1 69 

But  alone,  I  was  not  suffered  to  engineer. 

A  candle,  about  to  expire,  flares  up  with 
unexpected  brilliancy. 

Curiously  enough  this  original  metaphor, 
coupled  with  the  equally  original  "  saw ; " 
"  What  is  sauce  for  a  goose,  is  sauce  for  a 
gander ;  "  will  admirably  apply  to  me,  the 
goose ;  and  to  Gustave,  the  gander. 

I  was  about  to  expire  financially  —  (pity 
I  hadn't  sooner ! )  —  and  collected  myself  for 
a  last  flicker. 

Gustave  was  about  to  wind  up  his  dissi- 
pated term,  and  gathered  his  forces  for  a  last 
"  free  blow." 

To  that  end  —  he  established  a  BAR!  — 
though  I  went  down  on  my  knees  to  beg  off 
from  that. 

I  found  it  took  ready  money  to  get  in  a 
stock  of  liquors. 

Dealers  in  the  infernal  stuff  know  their 
power ;  and  whatever  other  bills  are  dishon 
ored  ;  theirs  are  paid  at  sight. 


170 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


Their  books,  to  the  interest  of  their  pie 
thoric  pockets,  present  accounts  well  posted 
and  paid  up. 

Smarting  under  this  fact,  I  am  happy  in 
the  thought,  that  one  day  there  will  be 
thrust  before  their  astonished  eyes  a  pri- 
vate memoranda,  that  will  require  all  their 
wits  to  settle  ;  though  assisted  by  Satan  him 
self — head  bookkeeper — LOCATED  THERE! 

The  bar  went  on  —  ignored  by  the  better 
class  of  my  boarders  —  who  soon  ignored 
the  house,  also. 

But  many,  young  and  inexperienced,  at- 
tracted by  the  cheerful,  well-lighted  room, 
found  their  way  thither ;  and  far  into  the 
night  the  rattling  of  dice,  and  the  uncork- 
ing of  bottles,  fell  upon  my  listening  ear. 

Did  I  say  Jealousy,  as  a  bane  to  domestic 
peace,  stands  unrivaled  ? 
I  retract ! 
My  views  are  liberal.     I  believe  in  good 


PANDEMONIUM. 

hard-shell  Baptists;  and  in  good  Hottentots, 
I  belie've  good  may  result  from  the  awful 
crime  of  murder  ;  and  that  good  may  come 
of  the  African  slave-trade. 

But,  accursed  liquor !  in  thee  there  is  NO 
good.  Emanating  from  hell  —  through  and 
through,  from  top  to  bottom  —  thdu  art  one, 
unmitigated  Evil ! 

By  love  of  thee  ;  the  most  gifted  —  be- 
come driveling.  The  most  genial  —  mo- 
rose. The  most  loving  —  demoniac. 

To  unhallowed  thirst  for  thee  ;  accursed 
liquor !  God,  wife,  children,  friends,  home, 
clothes,  food,  self-respect  and  life,  all  are  sac- 
rificed ;  and  underneath  the  ceaseless  roll 
of  thy  wheels,  O,  thrice  accursed  liquor ! 
more  are  crushed  than  ever  fell  before  the 
triumphal  car  of  the  Indian  Juggernaut ! 

Why,  upon  me  and  mine,  had  descended 
the  fell  destroyer  ? 

From  infancy,  I  had  abominated  this  foul 
outcropping  of  total  depravity. 


AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

My  father  before  me,  had  lost  thousands 
because  of  not  offering,  at  a  dinner  party  on 
board  his  ship,  the  hateful  thing,  to  a  person 
addicted  to  its  use,  who  never  forgave  the 
slight ! 

But  come  it  did,  with  all  its  '  attendant 
train  of  degrading  humiliations. 

To  the  theatrical  profession  I  am  indebted 
for  many  pleasant  hours. 

I  am  an  extravagant  admirer  of  the  "  Le- 
gitimate Drama  ;  "  and  in  my  palmy  days 
was  a  liberal  patron  of  the  same. 

But  geologically  speaking  there  is  a  lower 
strata  ;  and  that  found  its  way  to  Gustave's 
"free  blow." 

It  must  have  been  a  hungry  strata ;  for 
each  day,  to  the  music  of  the  bell,  a  string 
of  those  Bohemians  formed  themselves  in" 
order  of  march  from  the  "  bar  "  to  my  dinner- 
table  ;  led  off  by  that  prince  of  dead-heads 
—  Monsieur  Antoine  Tournais  —  who  had 


PANDEMONIUM.  I  73 

managed  to  fasten  himself  upon  Gustave 
with  all  the  tenacity  of  a  drowning  man. 

" Entre  nous"  it  is  my  private  opinion  he 
would  have  been  drowned  long  ago,  only  he 
was  so  thoroughly  soaked  with  brandy,  there 
was  no  room  for  water ! 

In  return  for  Gustave's  hospitality,  he 
volunteered  to  distribute  some  advertising 
bills. 

I  do  not  know  whether  he  had  a  shirt  to 
his  back,  but  I  do  know  he  had  a  pair  of 
white  gloves ;  with  which,  and  his  eternal 
"pardonnez  madame"  he  electrified  the  fe- 
male help  who  answered,  as  he  went  from 
door  to  door,  his  aristocratic  ring. 

I  certainly  consider  that  man,  with  his 
slippers  and  white  stockings,  and  a  monkey, 
borrowed  a  few  days  to  lend  additional  style, 
at  once  the  disgrace  and  ornament  of  this 
MODEL  bar  ! 

"  Requiescat  in  pace?  I  hope  his  friends 
have  found  a  use  for  that  epitaph,  and  that 
—  poor  fellow  —  he  is  indeed  at  rest. 


174 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


I  am  now  speaking  of  Monsieur  Antoine 
Tournais,  not  of  his  friend,  the  monkey ! 

All  housekeepers  know  that  cooks  like  a 
cup  of  that  which  "  cheers,  but  not  inebri- 
ates ;  "  and  like  it  strong  too  ! 

My  cooks  reversed  Cowper's  apologetic 
idea ;  and  absolutely  required  a  cup  of  that 
which,  however  much  it  "  inebriated  "  them, 
failed  to  "  cheer  "  me. 

We  had  dinner,  as  Sam  said,  "  perzactly  " 
at  twelve  o'clock. 

One  day,  during  the  black  and  white  ep- 
isode, about  half-past  eleven,  my  pastry  cook 
—  white  —  took  herself  and  her  inebriating 
facilities  bodily  out  of  the  house ;  and  I  have 
not  laid  eyes  on  her  since  ;  when  she  knew 
that  my  meat  cook  —  black  —  was  up  in  hef 
attic  on  a  three  days'  drunk ! 

"  But  the  hands  that  were  played 

By  that  heathen  Chinee, 
And  the  points  that  were  made 
Were  quite  frightful  to  see." 


PANDEMONIUM.  175 

The  wind  is  tempered  to  the  shorn  lamb 
—  or  the  shorn  lamb  is  tempered  to  the 
wind  —  as  I  am  not  quoting  Scripture,  I 
forget  which. 

RTimporte. 

There  never  was  a  shorn  lamb  born,  that 
could  walk  up  to  the  wind  I  had  to  face  • 
and  there  never  was  a  wind  blew,  that  my 
temperature  was  not  put  to  its  test ! 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

INFERNO. 

**  And  so  he  drinks  the  more  and  damns  himself — 
Then  drinks  again,  and  sleeps  and  wakes  and  raves." 

"  Woe  is  me,  that  I  sojourn  in  Mesech, 
That  I  dwell  in  the  tents  of  Kedar  !  " 

A  RUSH  from  the  bed  to  the  door  —  and 
"  Sam !  "  uttered  in  stentorian  voice  —  rings 
through  the  house ! 

Sam  appears  ;  goes  to  the  chimney-piece ; 
takes  therefrom  an  empty  bottle ;  disap- 
pears ;  and  returns  it  filled  to  the  same 
place. 

This  scene  has  been  repeated  many 
times,  every  day,  for  one  week.  If  I  told 
the  truth,  I  should  say  three. 

Gustave,  not  to  mince  the  matter,  is  on  a 
drunk. 


INFERNO 


177 


Will  he  ever  be  on  anything  else  ? 

I  have  misused  the  word.  You  cannot 
get  him  drunk. 

He  is  on  a  drink;  and  he  will  challenge 
you  to  that,  until  you  drop. 

The  pure  juice  of  the  grape,  I  have  no 
doubt,  is  a  very  delectable  article. 

When  freely  used,  even  in  remote  ages,  it 
no  further  "  set  up  "  Noah ;  than  to  make 
him  father  the  sons  of  Ham !  No  further 
"  set  up  "  the  rather  an  -  eye  -  to-the-main- 
chance,  young  man,  Lot ;  than  to  bring  out 
his  harmless  joke,  that  his  old,  salt  wife  had 
no  objection  to  his  taking  to  his  bosom  a 
young,  fresh  one!  No  further  "set  up" 
Abraham's  wife,  Sarai ;  than  to  make  her 
tell  two  outrageous  lies ;  and  beat  Hagar  al- 
most to  death  into  the  bargain ! 

The  pure  juice  of  the  grape  nowadays, 
is  grown  in  hell;  and  whosoever  imbibes 
the  brimstone  mixture  there  pressed,  goes 

12 


178  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

through  a  series  of  antics  initiated  in  that 
hot  clime. 

Thus,  with  Gustave. 

To  this  day  I  am  in  doubt,  and  cannot 
pronounce,  whether  I  prefer  the  phase  of 
the  driveling,  tear-shedding,  maudlin,  hard 
drinker ;  or  the  free-fight,  knock-down-and- 
drag-out  development ! 

I  ought  to  be  a  judge.  My  brother  was 
the  one ;  my  husband  the  other. 

With  the  first,  my  life  was  safe ;  but  the 
experience  —  sickeningly  enervating. 

With  the  last,  my  life  was  in  danger ;  but 
the  experience  —  inspiringly  exciting. 

Upon  the  cat-love-the-mouse  principle, 
Gustave  always  insisted  having  me  in  sight 
when  a  "  spree  "  was  on  him ;  and  his  "  in- 
sist," I  could  not  dodge. 

After  drinking,  tossing,  and  tumbling ; 
tumbling,  tossing,  and  drinking,  until  appar- 
ently exhausted ;  he  had  fallen  into  an  un- 
easy, fitful  slumber. 


INFERNO.  1 79 

All  was  quiet. 

By  and  by  he  slightly  stirred.  Pitying,  I 
approached  to  bathe  his  head ;  and  softly 
laid  my  cool  hand  upon  his  burning  fore- 
head. 

Quicker  than  thought  he  dashed  it  from 
him. 

"  Away  with  your  -  -  hand  !  Never 
you  dare,  vile  woman,  to  touch  me  again !  " 

"  But,  Gustave !  it  is  me,  your  wife." 

"  -  -  !  you  are  no  wife  of  mine. 

Go  finish  your  talk  with  Mr.  F .  You 

can't  deceive  me,  try  your  best ;  what  I  see, 
I  know.  My  eye  is  upon  you  —  my  fine 
bird  —  and  this  time  you  won't  escape !  " 

"  Gustave !  I  have  not  spoken  one  word 
to  Mr,  F for"  — 

"  Go  to  !  I  wouldn't  take  your  Bible 

oath  that  you  haven't  made  arrangements 
to  go  off  together.  You  man  seducer. 
Don't  you  attempt  to  fool  me  ;  but  if  it 
costs  me  my  life,  I  '11  cut  short  your  little 
game ! " 


I  80  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I  saw  what  was  coming,  in  the  jealous 
frenzy  to  which  he  had  now  wrought  him- 
self, and  sprang  for  the  door. 

He  was  there  before  me.  He  had  locked 
it;  and  holding  the  key  at  arm's  length, 
brandished  it  triumphantly  over  my  head. 

How  handsome  he  was  in  his  mad 
wrath ! 

So  looked  "  Lucifer,"  "  Son  of  the  Morn- 
ing ;  "  when,  fallen,  he  announced  in  solemn 
conclave,  his  choice  to 

"  Reign  in  Hell,  than  serve  in  Heaven." 

"You  thought  you  would  go  for  your 
lover,  did  you  ?  Perhaps  you  will,  when  I 
am  dead;  but  that  won't  be  till  I've  fin- 
ished you.  I'll  not  leave  you,  with  your 
paramour,  to  gloat  over  my  ruin.  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  you,  devilish  deceiver !  I 
should  never  have  drank  a  drop.  You  have 
driven  me  to  it ;  and  now  I'll  pour  down 
the  cursed  stuff  till  I'm  mad,  ha!  ha!" 


"  And  dragging  me  before  the  mirror.''  —  Page  181. 


INFERNO.  1 8 1 

"  Gustave !  Gustave !  in  mercy  to  your 
self"  — 

"  Don't '  Gustave  '  me !  To  you,  Madame, 
I  am  Monsieur  Chaudet  Running  away 
from  me,  were  you  ?  that  won't  pay ;  look 
here !  my  beauty !  " 

And  dragging  me  before  the  mirror ;  that 
I  might  see,  as  well  as  feel ;  he  pressed  both 
hands  tightly  over  my  mouth  and  nose. 

I  could  not  breathe.  I  was  suffocating. 
I  gave  one  despairing  glance ;  my  face  was 
purple ;  my  eyes  were  starting  from  their 
sockets 

God  in  Heaven !  mine  hour  had  come  ! 

Swifter  than  the  passage  of  light  the 
prayer,  "  FORSAKE  ME  NOT,"  went  up,  with 
the  faith  of  the  dying,  into  the  very  ear  of 
the  Omnipresent ;  and  brought  down  in-. 
stant  relief. 

The  hands  relaxed  their  hold  —  and  I 
was  again  numbered  with  the  living ! 

"  Gustave  !  Gustave  !  you  would  kill  me 
with  your  own  hand  !  " 


1 8  2  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPIIY. 

"  Kill  you,  my  darling,  precious  wife! 
I'd  like  to  find  myself — or  any  other  per- 
son —  laying  the  weight  of  their  finger 
upon  you." 

Was  the  man  in  his  senses  ? 

Didn't  he  know  that  Murder  had  almost 
branded  his  soul  ? 

"  Gustave  !  dear  Gustave !  I  implore  you 
to  lie  down.  You  need  rest.  Let  me  open 
the  door?  I  must  go  out  from  here,  indeed 
I  must !  " 

"  Indeed  you  mustn't ;  and  by  Heaven ! 

you  won't.  Going  after  your  Mr.  F , 

were  you  ?  and !  The 

handsomest  man  in  State  Street,  eh!  — 
*  How  is  that  for  high  ? '  My  memory  is 
good"- 

"  O,  Gustave !  give  me  that  key  ?  " 

" you !  sit  down  in  that  chair ; 

and  if  you  value  your  life,  don't  move." 

"  O !  but  I  am  nearly  dead.  I  MUST  have 
air;"  —  and  mortal  fright  overcoming  my 
dread  of  him,  I  shrieked  for  "  help !  help ! " 


INFERNO.  1 83 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  not  to  move  ?  

your  soul  to !  take  that  "  —  and  a  BLOW, 

heavy  and  unerring,  descended  upon  my 
devoted  head. 

White,  as  the  sheeted  dead,  I  faced  my 
foe. 

Thus  far,  only  Fear  had  influenced  me ; 
but  now,  every  passion  was  let  loose. 

Sorrow,  Pity,  Love,  Hatred ;  and  high 
over  all  revenge;  a  burning  thirst  for  RE- 
VENGE, upon  the  infatuated,  lost  Gustave. 

Had  my  strength  equaled  my  will,  the 
powdered  dust  of  his  "  mother  earth  "  would 
never  have  recognized  her  own ! 

Had  I  held  the  thunderbolts  of  Jove  ! 

A  man,  younger  than  myself! 

A  man,  for  whom  I  had  sacrificed  so 
much! 

A  man,  to  strike  me,  a  woman ! 

Me,  his  wife ! 

Me,  in  whose  veins  coursed  the  blood  of 
five  hundred  aristocrats !  but  every  drop  of 
which  was  now  like  molten  lead. 


184  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

My  whole  being  was  in  arms  ! 

Single-handed  I  could  have  fought  Satan. 

I  ha<4  not  only  Satan,  but  for  the  time 
being,  his  prime  minister,  Gustave. 

It  was  two  to  one ! 

Benumbed  alike,  with  the  blow  upon  my 
head ;  and  with  the  blow  upon  my  heart ; 
living — I  sank  to  the  floor  —  as  one  that 
was  dead. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

THE  HEGIRA. 

"So  I  saw  despondency  was  death,  and  flung  my  burdens  from 

me." 

"  They  were  so  queer,  so  very  queer, 

I  laughed  as  I  would  die.  " 

MEANTIME  — 

" '  Midst  the  wreck  of  matter,  and  the  crush  of  worlds  "  — 

I  held  on  to  my  reason.  Poor  me !  It  was 
about  all  I  had  to  hold  on  to  ;  except  —  my 
Saratoga  trunk ! 

That  I  packed ;  and  one  Sunday,  secretly 
left  in  the  evening  train  for  New  York; 
leaving  my  planet,  "  without  let  or  hind- 
rance," to  roll  on,  or  go  to  smash,  amid  her 
sister  spheres. 

It  is  the  evening  of  the  day  I  arrived ; 
bright  and  cool. 


1 86  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I  really  feel  the  need  of  recreation ;  and 
putting  aside  "  Cooper  Institute  "  facilities 
• — "  Shakespearian  Readings" — "Operatic 
Librettos  "  —  I  am  going  to  the  Circus  :  the 
New  York,  Fourteenth  Street,  Circus. 

I  want  to  hear  "Williams"  sing;  see 
"  Stickney  "  ride  ;  exercise  my  mind  over 
"  Billy  Button ; "  as  he  tumbles  into  the 
ring ;  scrabbles  on  to  his  horse ;  throws  off- 
coats  —  vests  —  pants  —  boots  —  and  ap- 
pears before  my  dilating  eyes  —  a  first-class 
rider  —  radiant  in  scarlet  and  gold  ! 

I  am  on  my  way  !  Want  to  know  how  I 
look  ?  dark  green,  poplin  dress ;  black  vel- 
vet sack ;  with  one  geranium  leaf —  one 
tuberose  —  one  verbena  —  stuck  in  the 
button-hole. 

That  bouquet  is  stereotyped.  No  one 
ever  saw  me  at  the  Fourteenth  Street 
Circus  without  it. 

I  anticipate  the  cheerful  salutation  and 
exclaim,  "  We  are  all  here ;  hope  you  are 
well,  Mr.  Clown!" 


THE  HEGIRA.  187 

The  Band  strikes  up.  I  am  ears  and 
eyes. 

Here  they  come ;  in  the  systematic  con- 
fusion of  the  "  Grand  Entree? 

Gallant  men ;  fair  women ;  gayly  capar- 
isoned horses ;  true  to  your  paces  in  the 
mazy  intricacies  of  the  sprightly  waltz. 

The  "  glamour  "  over,  I  pick  my  Knight. 

Pale  face  —  fair  hair  —  slight,  muscular 
figure  —  long  limbs  —  (he  will  use  all  their 
length  by  and  by  in  his  famous  "  Four  in 
Hand  ;")  showing  beneath  the  Andalusian 
mantle  an  occasional  glimpse  of  his  colors 
—  blue  and  fawn  ;  and  his  horse  ?  —  light 
• —  but  "  with  very  little  of  the  Arabian  — 
my  dear  sir ! "  —  give  you  his  picture. 

What  have  we  here  ?  "  Plantation  Bit- 
ters," with  two  crosses  —  XX  —  kicked 
about  in  this  shape  ?  regardless  of  cost  \  and 
always  upwards  ?  —  never  a  fall ;  give  the 
law  of  gravitation  a  chance,  and  send  these 
Bitters  after  it.  O,  the  barrels  are  empty  ? 


I  8 8  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

all  right !  —  go  ahead  !  —  but  do  Mr.  "  Lev- 
antine "  make  one  mistake  ;  or  I  shall  think 
you  hail  from  "  Tartarus ;  "  and  for  morn- 
ing pastime  have  taken  a  foot  practice  with 
"  Beelzebub ! " 

"  Whoa,  January  !  "  —  Will  that  man  and 
his  establishment  be  the  death  of  me  ? 
Shall  I  have  a  chance  at  another  meal? 

If  I  was  a  boy  !  —  if  I  was  a  darkey  !  if  I 
was  only  anything,  that  could  spread  right 
out,  and  scream ! 

"  Whoa,  January !  "  you  are  "  Whoad  " 
with  a  vengeance ;  and  to  start  either  wag- 
on, nag,  or  driver,  is  beyond  all  save  the 
Pony,  that  opportunely  comes  to  the  res- 
cue, and  backs  the  precious  trio  out  of  sight. 

The  music  changes. 

Here  you  are  my  little  lady !  with  your 
brief,  gossamer  skirts. 

That  is  right ;  make  your  courtesy  to  the 
expectant  crowd. 

I  kiss  you  my  hand ! 


THE  HEGIRA.  189 

The  "  ring  master "  awaits  your  dainty 
foot.  Spring  lightly  to  your  saddle ;  not 
that  —  "as  to  the  manor  born  "  —  spring 
lightly  to  the  bare  back  of  your  impatient 
steed. 

Away!  white  robe  —  pink  shoulder  knots 

—  trailing  flowers  —  in    the  rapid   whirl  — 
are  but  as  the  changes  of  a  Kaleidoscope. 

Away!  right  through  the  twelve  hoops, 
placed  to  stay  your  flight. 

Bravo !  you  have  well  won  the  tumultu- 
ous applause. 

Bravo !  again.  With  thoughts  intent 
upon  that  "  Aerial  Feat  "  —  there  is  no  one 
I  should  so*  like  to  be  this  night  —  as 
"  Madame  Caro£^  Roland  ! " 

Hurra !   for  the   "  Blue  and  Fawn ;  "   as 

—  with   the    rush    of    the    wind  — "  Stick- 
ney's "     "  Four    in    Hand "    sweeps    past ; 
guided  by  his  masterly  skill. 

From  my  distant  seat  /  catch  his  "  allez  \  " 
hissed  between  his  teeth  ;  and  instantly  rec- 


1 90 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


ognizing  the  voice  his  coursers  quicken  — • 
if  possible  —  their  already  lightning  speed. 

Now,  gathering  his  reins  —  the  panting 
'four"  are  side,  by  side  —  and  over  all 
hovers  the  graceful  form  of  the  daring 
rider ! 

Now,  throwing  up  his  reins  —  and  lightly 
balancing  himself  upon  one  foot  on  the 
"  leader  "  —  the  loosened  "  four  "  dash 
wildly  around  the  arena. 

"  One  stormy  gust  of  long  suspended  ahs ! 
One  whirlwind  chaos  of  insane  hurras  ! " 

But  " au  revoir?  I  will  put  my  "ver- 
bena "  —  my  "  tuberose  "  —  my  "  geranium 
leaf"  into  water — and  come  "again  to-mor- 
row night. 

Being  somewhat  acquainted,  I  had  gone 
directly  to  the  hospitable  house  of  a  quon- 
dam landlady. 

I  found  her  neatly  arrayed  in  a  brown 
silk ;  narrow  pink  ribbons  floating  from  her 


THE  HE G 'IRA. 


191 


stylish  head-dress  ;  and  a  rieh,  pink  bow, 
of  most  approved  dimensions,  at  her  throat. 

Noticing  my  mourning,  but  relieved  to 
learn  that  none  of  my  immediate  friends 
were  dead,  she  entered  into  friendly  talk; 
and  suggested,  for  our  mutual  enjoyment, 
several  little  excursions. 

Remember !  I  had  two  distinct  natures  ; 
and  that  "  fair  play  is  a  jewel." 

The  gloomy  and  sad  had  been  indulged 
long  enough ;  if  I  expected  to  preserve  the 
balance  of  power  —  or  more  truthfully 
speaking  —  the  balance  of  reason  ;  so  I  fell 
in  with  her  plans. 

With  my  dressy  friend  —  and  the  joyous 
half  of  my  " personelle" — I  had,  for  the 
next  ten  days,  a  right  down  good  time. 

I  would  not  think  of  home  —  positive 
"  Nemesis  "  would  be  on  my  track  only  too 
soon  —  and  my  flight  avenged ! 

We  often  rode  round  "  Central  Park"  — 
twenty-five  cents  apiece  for  the  whole  dis- 
tance—  thanks  to  the  new  arrangement. 


1 92  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

We  often  sailed  down  to  "  Staten  Island  " 
—  ten  cents  each  way  —  and  in  this  rational, 
economical  mode,  passed  many  a  happy 
day. 

"  On  old  Long  Island's  sea-girt  shore, 

Many  an  hour  I've  whiled  away ; 
Listening  to  the  breakers'  roar, 
That  wash  the  beach  at  Rockaway." 

There  came  a  telegram.     They  were  sick. 

Who  was  sick,  I  wondered  ? 

That  afternoon,  in  the  most  unconcerned 
manner,  I  took  another  turn  at  "  Central 
Park." 

There  came  a  second  telegram.  They 
were  very  sick. 

Who  was  very  sick,  I  wondered  ? 

That  day  I  steamed  down  to  "  Staten 
Island,"  in  a  perfectly  tranquil  state  of  mind. 

When  I  had  "  touched  bottom  "  —  it  oc- 
cupied me  longer  than  it  did  "  Gail  Ham- 
ilton "  (for  my  own  convenience),  I  turned 
my  face  homewards. 


THE  HEGIRA. 


193 


The  BAR  had  disappeared.  Carpet  and 
furniture  had  converted  it  into  a  comfort- 
able-sitting room. 

The  two  large  parlors  made  one  grand 
dining-room  ;  where  waiters  by  the  score, 
flying  round  like  mad,  were  serving  custom- 
ers at  forty  cents  a  head ! 

Without  an  allusion  to  the  past,  I  was 
humbly  requested,  as  Cashier,  to  step  into 
that  exciting  establishment  —  known  in 
Boston  —  as  the  "  Narragansett  House." 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

THE   GRAND    FINALE. 

"  I  cannot  add  —  I  will  not  steal ;  enough,  for  all  is  spoken." 

"  For  the  things 
Concerning  me  have  an  end." 

IT  was  Gustave  who  was  sick.  It  was 
Gustave  who  was  very  sick;  of  his  liquor 
—  of  his  bar — of  HIMSELF! 

I  trace  the  incipient,  embryo  purpose  of 
reformation  to  my  strategetic  "  Hegira." 

My  influence  again  somewhat  reinstated, 
I  set  myself  steadily  to  reform  many 
abuses ;  dismissed  a  gang  of  "  Cormorants  " 
in  the  shape  of  "  hangers  on  "  and  "  help  ;  " 
retrenched  in  every  way ;  looked  right  sharp 
after  affairs ;  and  if  Gustave  had  even  now 
taken  a  complete  turn  round,  we  might, 


THE   GRAND  FINALE. 


195 


after  all  our  mishaps,  have  in  a  measure 
saved  ourselves. 

But  he  was  a  boon  companion,  and  could 
not  be  spared  from  his  set. 

He  was  generous ;  and  fell  into  the  too 
common  error  of  being  so  at  other  peoples' 
expense;  so  that,  the  little  I  had  left  — 
dwindled  to  less ;  and  it  became  evident 
everything  must  go. 

I  will  be  just  to  him,  though  I  impli- 
cate myself. 

If  from  the  first  I  had  been  more  decided 
—  held  to  my  "  rights  "  —  a  good  deal  of 
subsequent  "  unpleasantness "  might  have 
been  avoided ;  but  I  was  naturally  confid- 
ing, and  hard  experience  alone,  will  re- 
move that  weakness. 

He  who  begins  by  trusting  everybody, 
ends  by  trusting  none  ! 

If  ever,  in  the  flesh,  I  do  get  hold  of  a 
cent  —  well !  —  "  nous  verrons" 

I  was  now  in  the  condition  of  "  Micaw- 
ber,"  waiting  for  "  something  to  turn  up." 


196  -          AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Unlike  that  renowned  man,  I  was  not 
disappointed. 

Something  did  "  turn  up  "  — 

A  KEEPER  was  put  in  ;•  with  strict  orders 
not  to  leave  the  premises  without  the 
money  in  his  pocket ! 

"  Yea,  mine  own  familiar  friend,  in  whom  I  trusted,  which  did 
eat  of  my  bread,  hath  lifted  up  his  heel  against  me."  —  Psalms 
xli.  9. 

For  the  benefit  of  those  who  have  never 
had  such  companionship  foisted  upon  them 
—  let  me  state ;  that  the  security  of  a  re- 
spectable Toad,  under  a  harrow,  is  Elysian 
compared  with  it. 

Lynx-eyed,  sitting  where  he  could  com- 
mand "the  situation,"  not  one  thing  escaped 
his  notice. 

I  drank  my  very  tea  in  fear  and  trem- 
bling, lest  there  should  be  a  "  slip  between 
the  cup  and  my  lip." 

Miraculously  disposing  of  that  "  Incu- 
bus," I  rushed  to  our  principal  creditor,  and 


THE    GRAND  FINALE.  197 

begged  him,  for  the  love  of  Heaven,  to  come 
down  and  put  such  an  attachment  on  the 
place,  as  would  wind  up  that,  myself,  and 
everybody  concerned. 

This  he  did ;  and  in  an  inconceivably 
short  space  of  time  —  considering  the  num- 
ber of  articles  to  be  touched  by  the  magic 
wand  of  going !  going  /  GONE  !  —  everything 
I  owned  in  the  world,  for  the  second  time, 
under  the  hammer  of  a  voluble  auctioneer, 
was  knocked  down  to  the  highest  bidder ! 

I  actually  felt  relieved. 

I  had  reached  the  last  round  of  the  lad- 
der; but  one  more  step  and  I  should  kiss 
my  "  mother  earth." 

That  spectacle  was  in  reserve. 

Not  being  "  woman's  rights,"  I  never 
made  a  public  speech. 

Going  back  eighteen  months,  I  wish  I 
could  assemble  every  individual  I  owe  in 
this  wide  world,  and  say  unto  them  — 


198  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

"  Gentlemen !  —  I  am  a  woman  ;  and  as 
such,  have  the  meanest  possible  opinion  of 
my  capacity  to  transact  business. 

"  My  mother  erred ;  in  that,  she  did  not 
learn  me  to  cook. 

"  '  The  devil  finds  some  mischief  still 
For  idle  hands  to  do.' 

"  If  I  had  been  a  good  cook,  I  should  not 
have  been  a  poor  financier. 

"  You  are  the  victims  of  her  unfortunate 
mistake. 

"  I  owe  you  collectively  a  good  deal  of 
money.  I  have  not  one  cent  wherewith  to 
repay. 

"  I  throw  myself  upon  your  mercy. 

"  I  am  going  to  New  York  to  hide  my 
humiliating  defeat  —  and  am  indebted  to 
the  kindness  of  a  friend  —  for  a  free  pass 
thereto.  Farewell." 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

RESURGAM. 

"  And  all  in  sympathy  with  thee,  tremble  with  tumultuous  emo 
tions." 

THE  broken-down  of  all  nations  congre- 
gate in  New  York. 

To  that  conglomerate  centre  I  accord- 
ingly wended  my  ardent  steps. 

I  had  now  my  "  free  pass  "  —  and  my 
clothes. 

The  "  pass  "  was  taken  up  in  my  transit. 
My  clothes  I  expected  to  meet  on  my  ar- 
rival. 

They  were  not  there  ! 

I  had  sent  them  on  in  care  of  Gustave, 
who  had  preceded  me.  He  had  gone  into 
business,  and  had  raised  his  share  of  the 
partnership  money  —  upon  them  1 


2OO  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

The  last  round  in  the  ladder  slipped  out ; 
ray  feet  flew  up ;  I  came  down  flat  on  my 
back. 

I  HAD  NOTHING 

Quite  agreed  with  "  Dick  Swiveller"  that 
an  umbrella  would  be  something ;  but  my 
umbrella  was  invested  in  —  a  Bleecker 
Street  restaurant! 

Poor  Gustave !  He  had  hoped  through 
successful  custom  to  make  good  my  loss, 
before  I  discovered  it. 

But  the  old,  uncontrollable  habit  got  the 
upper  hand.  His  business,  as  usual,  proved 
a  failure ;  and  my  best  clothes  still  grace 
the  shelves  of  a  Prince  Street  pawnbroker! 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 
t 

THE  CANAL  STREET  PAWN  SHOP. 

"  Which  I  wish  to  remark  — 

And  my  language  is  plain  — 
That  for  ways  that  are  dark 

And  for  tricks  that  are  vain, 
The  heathen  Chinee  is  peculiar. 
Which  the  same  I  would  rise  to  explain." 

THE  account  of  Dr.  Kane's  explorations 
in  the  ice-bound  region  of  the  North  is  in- 
teresting ;  because  —  it  is  true. 

The  account  of  Dr.  Livingstone's  travels 
in  the  burning  region  of  the  South  is  inter- 
esting ;  because  —  it  is  true. 

This  chapter  will  be  interesting ;  because 
—  it  is  true. 

I  had  three  choice  articles  of  wearing  ap- 
parel left 


2O2  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I  was  hungry.  They  must  go  to  sat- 
isfy that  hunger;  and  after  shedding  tears 
enough  over  each  separate  piece  to  start  a 
reasonable  Niobe  in  a  fair  business,  I  set 
out. 

•r 

What  was  the  use  of  dodging  so  many 
corners  ?  wearing  myself  to  death  trying  to 
deceive  people  ? 

-  My  landlady  knew  everything  in  that  bun- 
dle just  as  well  as  I  did.  How  suspiciously 
she  eyed  me  as  I  passed  out ;  for  all  I  took 
such  good  care  to  keep  my  plump  figure 
between  IT  and  her. 

And  the  policeman  on  the  corner  ;  didn't 
he  know  just  as  well  as  I  —  who  tied  up  the 
things  —  that  within  the  thick  paper,  so 
carefully  done  up,  was  my  muff? —  O !  how 
I  have  needed  it  this  cold  winter ;  my  warm 
beaver  sack?  —  and  my  pretty,  point-lace 
collar  ?  —  that  I  never  looked  at  without 
recalling  the  black  eyes  of  the  coquettish 
gir-1  who  sold  it  me  in  Montreal ! 


THE  CANAL  STREET  PAWN  SHOP.        2C>3 

"  Forewarned,  forearmed."  I  had  an  idea 
that  "  Cops  "  could  see  right  through  a  mill- 
stone ;  so  was  mighty  careful  to  trip  by  him 
airy  and  indifferent,  specially  to  the  package 
dangling  by  its  strong  string  from  my  finger. 

I  didn't  stop  to  ask  the  way  to  Canal 
Street.  No.  I  crossed  over  to  a  good  look- 
ing darkey — sunning  himself  and  a  cheap 
cigar  on  the  sidewalk  —  and  inquired. 

What  was  the  matter  ?  didnt  anybody 
ever  before  carry  a  thick,  brown,  paper  par- 
cel through  Canal  Street? 

The  fellow  had  one  of  his  African  eyes 
on  it  all  the  time  he  was  pointing  out  the 
way! 

I'm  near-sighted ;  where  am  I  ?  O  !  here 
it  is;  the  very  place.  Underground  shop ; 
yes  —  door,  part  wood  ;  top,  glass  ;  all  the 
panes  excepting  one,  painted  white  to  screen 
the  customers  ;  and  that  shows  up  in  black 
letters,  "  Money  to  Loan !  —  on  Diamonds 
—  Watches  —  Pianos." 


2O4 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


But  I  have  not  got  any  "  Pianos — Watches 
• — Diamonds  :  "  what  to  do  ?  I  stand  irres- 
olute. 

A  small,  sharp-eyed  man  spied  me,  and 
hurrying  up  said,  "  What  can  we  do  for  you 
marm,  this  morning  ?  "  —  all  the  while  tak- 
ing in  the  dimensions  of  my  budget;  and 
I  will  wager  my  sapphire  ring,  now  in  the 

hands  of  Mr.  A as  security,  that  he 

knew  exactly  what  was  inside,  and  had 
already  made  up  his  mind  precisely  how 
much  to  advance  on  the  lot ! 

Hiding  my  confusion,  I  gave  elaborate 
reasons  for  troubling  so  courteous  a  gentle- 
man as  himself,  with  the  trifling  affair.  But, 
with  many  apologies,  "  the  fact  was  —  I 
wished  to  surprise  a  friend  with  a  gift  —  and 
being  just  a  little  short  of  funds — and 
having  read  his  advertisement  in  the  "  Her- 
ald "  —  I  had  taken  the  liberty  to  bring  with 
me  a  few  things ;  which,  if  he  would  be  so 
obliging  as  to  examine  —  and  could  be  =>o 


'  What  can  we  do  for  you,  marm,  this  morning  ?  "  —  Page  204. 


THE   CANAL  STREET  PAWN  SHOP.        205 

kind  as  to  give  me  some  money  upon  —  I 
should  esteem  it  a  very  great  favor  —  and 
would  throw  all  the  custom  in  his  way  I 
possibly  could  —  ever  after." 

"  O !  with  pleasure,  marm."  Should  he 
look  at  them  ? 

I  wonder  the  "  things  "  were  not  turned 
into  salt  by  the  abominable  lie  I  had  manu- 
factured ;  for,  if  he  hadrit  taken  them,  my 
"  friend  "  would  not  have  lost  a  gift,  but  I 
should  have  gone  supperless  to  bed ;  which, 
as  I  had  not  yet  seen  my  dinner,  "  riy  pen- 
sons  pas  /  " 

"  And  what,  marm,  may  you  want  on  this 
collar?" 

"  Well !  it  cost  me  fifteen  dollars  ;  but  I 
don't  suppose  you  will  allow  more  than  half 
that ! " 

"  Expect  —  me  —  to  —  allow  —  seven  — 
dollars  —  fifty  —  cents  —  on  —  THAT  !  "  ex- 
claimed  the  Jew,  holding  up  the  strip  of 
lace  two  inches  wide,  fourteen  inches  long. 


2O6  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

"  One  dollar  twenty-five  cents  is  the  very 
most ;  and  we  do  that  to  accommodate  you, 
marm ! " 

I  thought  of  my  muff — my  sable  muff ; 
my  sack  —  my  beaver  sack ;  and  groaned  in 
spirit. 

The  man  caught  the  echo  of  the  groan ; 
looked  into  my  face  ;  and  "  set  on  edge " 
with  desire  to  make  money,  determined  to 
drive  a  bargain. 

All  I  could  get  out  of  him  for  the  muff, 
which  cost  me  twenty  dollars,  was  a  paltry 
two ;  all  for  the  sack,  which  cost  me  forty 
dollars,  was  a  paltry  four  ;  and  both  nearly 
new. 

But  I  was  the  gainer  in  one  way.  I  had 
no  "  transparency "  to  carry  through  the 
street ;  and  I  went  up  Broadway,  with  seven 
dollars  twenty-five  cents  in  my  pocket,  as 
lightly  as  though  I  had  not  got  to  pay,  for 
the  use  of  that  bewildering  amount,  at  the 
end  of  one  short  month,  fourteen  dollars 


THE  CANAL  STREET  PAWN  SHOP.        2OJ 

and  fifty  cents  ;  besides  running  the  risk  of 
never  getting  back  into  my  possession  the 
aforesaid  "  articles." 

I  went  home.  I  had  my  supper ;  and  im- 
pulsively generous,  invited  Jane  Matthews 
to  sup  with  me. 

We  enjoyed  it.  Muffs,  sacks,  collars  do 
eat  well ;  and  we  had  coffee,  too.  That 
upon  my  weak  stomach,  rather  "  set  me 
up." 

We  played  a  two-handed  game  of  Euchre 
in  which,  imitating  that  "  heathen  Chinee," 
I  made  some  "  points ; "  naturally  enough, 
having  just  swallowed  my  point-lace  collar! 

At  ten  we  separated.  At  eleven  I  went 
to  bed ;  or  rather  threw  myself  on  the  sofa 
until  my  husband  should  come  in. 

I  slept.     Attend  to  my  dream  — 

A  good-sized  dining-room ;  carpet  green 
and  red ;  showing  up  bright  in  the  full 
blaze  of  the  gas.  Gustave  always  would 
turn  on  that,  regardless  of  the  monthly  call 


2O8  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

of  the  Manhattan  Gas  Light  Co.  The  ta- 
ble set  out  —  O  !  so  nice  —  with  its  new 
dishes ;  and  —  I  thought  I  saw  a  white  cloth  ? 
no  —  I  thought  I  saw  a  great  she'et  of  white 

o  o 

paper?  no  — it  is  the  "  New  York  Herald," 
all  covered  over  with  "  Money  to  Loan ! " 
"  Money  to  Loan  !  "  in  letters  a  yard  long. 

But  the  fragrant  odor  of  a  well-cooked 
dinner  comes  stealing  in  at  the  open  door ; 
through  which  too,  enters  my  husband.  I 
am  so  glad. 

The  waiter  sets  down  a  large  tureen 
right  over  the  word  "  Money,"  leaving  only 
"  to  Loan  "  bristling  all  around. 

Is  the  money  gone,  and  nothing  left  but 
the  LOAN  ? 

I  writhe  in  my  sleep ! 

For  the  oysters.  Gustave  lifts  the  cover ; 
and  poking  about  the  dish,  angrily  screams 
to  the  cook,  "  What  is  this  mess  ?  " 

"Just  what  mistress  ordered,  sir! — sea- 
soned it  the  best  I  knew  how,  sir!  —  she 


THE  CANAL  STREET  PAWN  SHOP.         209 

would  have  muff  for  dinner,  with  oyster 
sauce." 

"Yes  —  Gustave!  my  muff;  they  fare 
worse  in  Paris ;  eat  away.  It  will  digest 
quicker  and  much  easier  than  my  piano  ; 
that  was  rosewood ;  and  you  are  used  to 
logwood,  you  know!  Pass  me  the  end  of 
that  tassel,  please,  with  a  good  deal  of  the 
gravy !  Have  some  coffee  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  milk  it  well ;  I  will  sugar  myself. 
Are  you  crazy  ?  Here  's  half  your  collar  in 
the  bottom  of  my  cup,  and  the  other  half  in 
my  throat.  Who  told  you,  Bridget,  to  set- 
tle your  coffee  with  lace  collars  ?  " 

"  Nobody,  sir !  mistress  said  fry  it  for 
breakfast ;  but  as  I  looked  at  you,  coming 
up  the  steps,  sir,  I  thought  may  be,  you 
would  like  it  better  soaked? . 

"  You  and  your  mistress  go  to  hell !  The 
next  thing,  we  shall  have  her  sack  served 
up  for  dinner." 

"  To-morrow,  sir !  Got  it  roasting  now ;  it 
14 


2  I O  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

is  awful  tough ;  won't  be  done  clear  through 
before  your  next  meal.  What  kind  of  veg- 
etables ?  —  whiskey,  or  point-lace  ? —  Sir !  " 

"  My  whiskey  is  point-lace,  muff,  beaver 
sack ;  but  it  is  not  for  you  to  fling  it  at  me; 
take  that  —  you  officious  fool ! "  bawled 
Gustave  ;  hurling  tureen,  muff,  and  all,  after 
the  flying  cook.  • 

I  awoke  with  a  start  — 

There  was  the  green  and  red  carpet,  with 
the  gas  turned  on  to  its  full  extent. 

There  sat  Gustave  with  those  three  pawn 
tickets,  that  had  fallen  from  my  pocket,  in 
one  hand;  and  a  boot,  he  had  just  pulled 
off  to  send  after  the  first,  in  the  other. 

Tears  were  in  his  eyes.  Conscience  was 
at  work. 

I  thought  it  no  more  than  fair  it  should 
work,  though  the  leaven  of  it  rose  him  high 
as  "  Raman's  gallows ;  "  as  —  but  for  his 
impoverishing  dissipation  —  I  should  now 
have  round  me,  my  widely  scattered  com 
forts. 


THE  CANAL  STREET  PA  WN  SHOP.        2  I  I 

My  dream  shadowed  the  truth. 

The  demon,  Drink,  pollutes  everything 
it  touches ! 

The  demon,  Drink,  destroys  everything 
that  crosses  its  path  ! 

The  demon,  Drink,  inaugurates  a  series 
of  "  dissolving  views  "  startling  to  the  gen- 
erally accepted,  cohesive  habits  of  "  house- 
hold gods ! " 

While  it  is  a  law  of  Nature,  that  the  less 
shall  precede  the  greater ;  it  is  a  law  of  this 
Monster,  that  the  "greater"  shall  precede 
the  "  less." 

The  grand  piano,  that  once  occupied  the 
whole  side  of  a  handsome  room,  has  dwin- 
dled to  a  printed  slip,  my  finger  can  cover, 
labeled  —  "  Loan  Ticket  No.  1009  "  — 
somewhat  retrieving  its  ^significance,  in 
size ;  by  its  .significance,  in  import. 

Verily,  the  Greater  hath  preceded  the 
Less;  substituting  Discord  for  Harmony, 
in  its  unnatural  priority ! 


212  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Tokens,  endeared  by  associations  and 
years  of  possession,  are  gobbled  up  by 
"  The  Insatiable ; "  that  spews  out  of  his 
foul  mouth  in  return,  strips  of  yellow  paper, 
all  looking  one  way. 

Bah !  I  could  paste  "  Tammany  Hall ' 
from  floor  to  ceiling,  with  the  hateful 
color ! 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

BOOK  AGENTS  WANTED. 

"By  cheerful  wit  and  graphic  tale,  refreshing  the  harassed 
spirit." 

"  VIVE  !  "  New  York  !  Down  with  Brook- 
lyn! 

This  has  not  always  been  my  war-cry. 
Time  was,  I  sympathized  with  the  "  City  of 
Churches." 

But,  let  me  tell.  — 

The  boarding-house,  and  every  other 
scheme,  having  signally  failed,  thereby  sink- 
ing my  entire  means ;  nothing  less  than 
starvation,  staring  me  directly  in  the  face, 
coiild  have  induced  my  next  step. 

Pitying  Shade !  Guardian  Angel !  wast 
thou  asleep,  when  I  answered  the  above 
"  want  ?  " 


2I4 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


To  break  myself  in,  make  myself  "  au 
fait "  to  the  business ;  I  selected  Brooklyn 
as  the  place ;  and  a  mongrel  affair,  half  re- 
ceipts —  half  advertisements  —  as  the  base 
of,  operation. 

Already  I  emulated  the  maid  of  "green 
gown  "  memory  ;  and  my  eggs  had  bought, 
only  she  knew,  how  much. 

Brooklyn  was  to  hatch  the  chickens ! 

So,  decked  in  borrowed  plumage,  a  black 
lace  shawl  carelessly  thrown  over  me  for 
effect,  hopes  high,  anticipations  brilliant,  to 
Brooklyn  I  went! 

To  be  explicit  — 

My  commission  upon  each  number  sold 
was  to  be  ten  cents. 

"  En  passant?  the  publisher  had  secured 
the  lion's  share,  and  had  taken  his  pay  in 
advance. 

Behold  me!  a  novice!  and  raw  at  tjiat; 
with  twenty-five  pamphlets  that  had  fallen 
dead  from  the  press,  as  my  only  capital,  save 
—  my  tongue. 


BOOK  AGENTS   WANTED.  215 

I  used  that  freely ;  and  did  more  talking 
over  those  money-saving  receipts,  and  self- 
sacrificing  advertisements,  than  would  have 
set  up  the  entire  New  York  Bar,  in  a  first- 
class  practice ! 

Either,  all  "  heads  of  families  "  in  Brook- 
lyn were  "  petrified,"  "  a  la  Cardiff  giant ;  ' 
or,  servants  had  received  strict  orders  to 
admit  no  vagrants. 

Only  two  American  faces  greeted  my  vis- 
ion that  blessed  day. 

However,  perseverance  wins ;  and  by 
dint  of  my  sweetest  smiles ;  my  extremest 
politeness ;  my  shawl  poetically  arranged ; 
I  did  sell,  through  the  agency  of  these  same 
servants,  six  of  my  precious  load. 

Sixty  cents  clear  gain.  Fifteen  cents  to 
be  deducted  for  car  fare. 

I  indulged  in  no  dinner ;  made  that  out 
of  my  New  York  landlady  at  night. 

For  three  days,  I  continued  thus.  The 
-niles  of  streets  I  walked ;  the  acres  of  steps 


2  1 6  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I  ascended  :  then  —  following  the  example 
of  the 

"  King  of  France,  with  forty  thousand  men  "  — 

descended;  are  they  not  forever  memorial 
ized  in  my  failing  limbs  ? 

Brooklyn !  adieu !  I  shake  thy  dust  off 
my  feet ! 

From  thy  sympathetic,  Ferry-begirt  area, 
I  bore  an  exact  profit  of  one  dollar  and 
twenty-eight  cents ;  and  —  an  experience. 

But,  turning,  the  El  Dorado  of  the 
"  agent "  meets  my  longing  gaze. 

Dirty !  Noisy !  Splendid  !  —  New  York ! 
I  salute  you ! 

No  more  worthless  pamphlets.  A  gen- 
uine book,  could  alone  satisfy  my  aspira- 
tions. 

What  should  it  be  ? 

Up  and  down  the  columns  of  the  "  New 
York  Herald  "  mine  eyes  roved  in  eager 
search. 


BOOK  AGLNTS   WANTED. 


217 


"  Book  Agents  wanted !  "  met  me  at  every 
turn. 

At  length  I  hit  upon  just  the  thing.  Vol- 
ume nice  ;  author  well  known  ;  profit  good. 

With  unquestioning  faith,  I  entered  the 
arena  as  "  agent  "  for  that  work. 

Recalling  the  past,  I  eschewed  dwellings. 
Most  women  prefer  ribbon  to  literature, 
when  it  comes  to  actually  paying  for  the 
same. 

I  looked  solely  to  places  where  men 
"  most  do  congregate,"  for  patronage. 

Pride,  sensitiveness  and  —  yes  —  delicacy 
too,  must  go  by  the  board,  if  success  is  the 
goal,  in  this  calling. 

It  won't  do,  to  offer  a  book  worth  the 
money,  and  receive  your  dollar  with  the  air 
of  a  beggar  soliciting  alms ! 

It  won't  do,  to  walk  Broadway  an  hour 
before  you  can  muster  courage  to  offer  your 
book  at  all !  /  know. 

It  won't  do,  to   feel   put  down   because 


2  1 8  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

you  chance  to  be  the  nineteenth,  who  has 
offered  to  sell,  in  that  very  place,  that  very 
day,  before  dinner ! 

No.  Boldly  approach,  and  assume  to 
confer  a  favor.  ' 

Come  straight  from  your  home  to  your 
customer. 

Bless  you !  it  is  the  nineteenth  woman 
who  makes  the  trade. 

What  matter,  if  they  can  buy  to  better 
advantage  elsewhere  ?  make  them  buy  of 
you. 

I  am  not  "  strong  minded ;  "  but  I  pity  the 
men  of  nowadays.  Alongside  the  women, 
their  chance  is  slim ! 

"  Bloody  Mary "  is  said  to  have  re- 
marked, "  that  in  death,  '  Calais  '  would  be 
found  printed  upon  her  heart !  " 

Not  "  Calais,"  but  "  Mexico,"  is  imprinted 
in  letters  of  fire  upon  my  heart,  and  head 
too! 


BOOK  AGENTS   WANTED.  219 

Every  nerve,  of  an  exhausted  vitality,  re- 
sponds to  the  assertion  that  she  is  indeed, 
our  "  Sister  Republic." 

Had  I  roamed  the  "  Halls  of  the  Monte- 
zumas  "  republican  at  heart ;  and  —  immor- 
tal as  the  "  Wandering  Jew  "  — walked  down 
the  Years,  to  that  freed  land  of  to-day;  I 
could  not  more  persistently  have  laid  before 
New  York  and  Boston,  this  ephemeral  fact. 

Facing  wind  and  weather ;  bearing 

"  A  Banner  with  this  strange  device,'.' 

I  passed  on. 

I  went  into  "  Wall "  Street  with  awe ; 
into  "Broad"  Street  with  hope. 

Had  not  the  fascination  of  the  female  ele- 
ment, thrown  its  charm  and  romance  over 
the  "  bread  and  butter  business  "  of  "  stock 
brokerage  ? " 

I  drew  near. — 

Directly  before  me,  in  large  letters  upon 
the  door,  was  this  notice : 

"  BEGGARS   AND   PEDDLERS   NOT   ADMITTED." 


22O  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Meekly  I  slipped  in ;  passed  a  long  row 
of  industrious  clerks;  and  entered  —  the 
"  Sanctum." 

The  "  Presidential  Candidate "  was  flit- 
ting about,  gracefully  button-holing  a  very 
good  looking  —  I  wonder  who  it  could  be  ? 
—  brother  financier. 

The  soliciting  partner,  at  lady-like  ease, 
was  softly  humming, 

"Will  you  walk  into  my  parlor  ? 
Said  the  spider  to  the  fly." 

Seizing  a  favorable  opportunity,  I  spoke 
to  them  of  my  errand. 

"  Madame !  responded  the  '  Candidate,'  if 
'  General  Grant '  and  the  '  Angel  Gabriel 
indorsed  your  book,  WE  should  not  invest 
in  '  Mexico  !  " 

Subsiding  into  my  normal  condition  of 
"  a  worm  of  the  dust,"  I  crawled  away. 

But  I  came  from  the  "  Grand  Opera 
House,"  proud  to  show  upon  my  subscrip- 


BOOK  AGENTS   WANTED.  221 

tion  page  the  name  of  New  York's,  public- 
spirited,  magnificent,  "  un  bon  vivdnt" 

I  came  from  "  Bunker  Hill,"  glorying  in 
names  whose  fathers  fought,  bled,  and  died, 
for  Liberty ! 

Not  having  "  nine  children  and  one  at 
the  breast,"  I  was  thrown  upon  the  bare 
merits  of  the  work ;  and  I  am  free  to  say, 
those  merits  have  never  failed  me. 

I  have  had  the  pleasure  and  the  honor, 
of  introducing  Colonel  Albert  S.  Evans' 
reliable,  and  very  readable,  production  into 
many  of  our  first  families. 

Excuse  my  laughing !  It  is  at  this  recol- 
lection. 

In  Boston  there  dwells  a  bachelor ;  very 
rich,  and  —  I  will  be  charitable  —  very 
close. 

Still,  he  had  known  me  "  egg  and  bird," 
and  I  was  sure  of  my  man. 

Confidently  presenting  to  him  my  "  Mex 
ican  "  claim,  he  patronizingly  patted  me  on 
the  shoulder,  his  face  all  of  a  yard  long, 


222  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

and  informed  me,  in  sepulchral  tones,  that 
he  had  just  lost  fifty  thousand  dollars  ;  that 
he  would  be  happy  to  buy  some  other  day ! 

"  Mexico  "  was  at  a  discount ;  her  bud- 
ding hopes  crushed  out  of  sight  by  the 
magnitude  of  this  loss,  which  I  consider- 
ately gave  him  four  months  to  recover. 

The  breezy,  exhilarating  zephyrs  of 
March  wafted  me  again  in  that  direction. 

His  face  drawn  to  precisely  the  same 
angle ;  his  shoulder  pats  precisely  as  sym- 
pathetic ;  his  voice  precisely  as  hollow ;  he 
said  he  was  now  arranging  his  business,  and 
urged  me  to  come  by  and  by! 

Reckoning  by  years,  it  is  time  that  man's 
affairs  were  settled. 

Reckoning  by  money,  it  is  time  that  man 
was  bled  to  the  tune  of  one  subscription 
book,  at  least. 

Imitating  the  euphonious  harmony  of  the 
primer  rhyme 

"  Zaccheus  he 
Did  climb  a  tree  "  — 


BOOK  AGENTS   WANTED. 


I  announce  to  thee,  bachelor  mine 


223 


"I  shall  call 
In  the  fall." 

But  as  to  the  Biblical  student  there  would 
be  keen,  though  perhaps  obscure,  satire,  in 
the  transposition  of  the  lines ; 

"  In  the  Fall 
I  shall  call." 

How  this  avocation  sharpens  the  wits ! 

As  to  the  human  countenance,  it  becomes 
so  transparent  that  an  "agent"  must  be 
stupid  indeed  who  cannot  read  as  he  runs. 

What  variety  too,  in  manner ! 

Some,  kind  and  generous  ;  others,  polite 
and  mean ;  some,  indifferent  and  morose ; 
and  others,  downright  rude,  with  curses  not 
"  loud  but  deep,"  speed  you  on  your  way. 

Seeking  the  first;  shunning  the  last;  I 
have  been  brought  mostly  into  contact  with 
the  agreeable. 

My  Mexico's  fair  list,  boasts  names  "  men 
delight  to  honor ; "  as  well  as  those  of  per- 


224  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

• 

sonal  friends  to  the  distinguished  party,  who 
made  the  "  Gala  Trip "  through  her  gor- 
geous Tropics ! 

Fellow-laborer,  in  this  inviting  field,  look 
to  thyself!  "  Be  ye  wise  as  a  serpent,  harm- 
less as  a  dove." 

Fellow-laborer,  gird  thyself!  Names  of 
note  have  preceded  thee.  May  not  Paul, 
Apostle  to  the  Gentiles,  in  his  earlier  years, 
have  been  engaged  in  this  business? 

Does  not  his  assertion,  that  he  was  all 
things  to  all  men,  hoping  thereby  to  gain 
some,  smack  of  an  experience  evolved  as  an 
"  Agent  ?  "  At  all  events,  the  whole  secret 
of  success  is  inclosed  in  this  very  nutshell, 
"  all  things  to  all  men."  In  these  days,  the 
chances  are  you  will  thereby  gain  the  lot. 

I  know  one  —  young  and  handsome ; 
who,  by  close  observance  of  this  rule,  made 
his  "  pile  "  out  of  a  last  year's  almanac ; 
better  still ;  out  of  a  pamphlet  far  more  un- 


BOOK  AGENTS   WANTED.  22$ 

interesting  and  passe  than  any  modern  al- 
manac ;  for,  under  the  able  generalship  of  a 
well-known  humorist,  "  Allmanax  "  are  tak- 
ing a  lead  in  literature ! 

I  know  another  —  of  education  and  ad- 
dress ;  who  failed  to  earn  his  salt,  though 
showing  a  work  indorsed  by  the  first  in  the 
land,  through  lack  of  the  "  Chameleon  "  in 
his  nature. 

But  I  know  a  woman  —  long  may  she 
wave !  —  who,  to  unprecedented  tact  in 
swelling  a  subscription  list,  unites  consum- 
mate shrewdness  in  making  herself  good 
against  possible  loss ;  thus  eminently  com- 
bining the  two  essential  points,  of  "  raising 
the  wind,"  and  when  "  raised,"  of  appropri- 
ating the  same :  the  capacity  to  do  which, 
in  a  more  enlarged  sphere,  would  place  her 
'  bull,"  or  "  bear,"  in  the  front  rank,  as  a 
Wall  Street  financier ! 

I  declare ;  was  I  myself  to  start  a  sub- 
scription book,  and  that  person  applied  to 
'5 


226  AN  A  UTOBIOGRAPHY. 

me  for  a  chance,  such  is  my  admiration 
of  her  as  a  "  success,"  that  notwithstand- 
ing a  certain  looseness  respecting  "  meum 
et  tuum,"  I  would  appoint  her  canvasser 
in-chief  over  any  district  she  might  desire. 
"  Sauve 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE    "  HUB." 
"  There  always  shall  be  one  to  bless ;  for  I  am  on  thy  side." 

IN  New  York  I  was  comparatively  a 
stranger ;  but  they  "  did  not  take  me  in," 
either  figuratively  or  literally. 

Only  the  Omnipotent  can  reckon  the 
prayers  that  silently  go  up,  on  "  the  wings 
of  the  morning,"  from  the  streets  of  that 
gay  metropolis  for  help ;  for  material  aid ; 
which  can  that  day,  only  be  realized  by 
Heaven  itself! 

My  last  book  was  sold. 

At  the  end  of  five  months,  I  too,  fell  into 
the  ranks  of  the  great  multitude  who  throng 
her  streets  with  burdened  hearts;  and — - 
nothing  to  do. 


228  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Per  necessity  I  returned  to  Boston ;  in- 
debted a  second  time,  to  the  kindness  of  a 
friend,  for  a  "  free  pass." 

There  I  was  well  known ;  and  sure  at 
least  of  one  acquaintance  within  her  classic 
limits,  who  would  not  suffer  me  to  starve. 

I  was  now,  sole  and  undisputed  owner  of 
a  purple  and  black,  striped  gown  (how 
glad  I  am  I  was  persuaded  six  years  ago 
at  Jordan  &  Marsh's  into  buying  it;  a 
firmer  piece  of  goods  was  never  thrown 
upon  Boston  Market). 

I  was  now,  sole  and  undisputed  owner  of 
a  "  water-proof  "  (more  ancient,  equally  abid- 
ing)- 

And  —  my  reputation  ! 

Financially,  this  was  bad.  But  morally 
—  here  I  made  a  stand. 

When  I  leave  the  Metropolitan  city; 
come  on  "  via  "  Springfield ;  and  get  out  at 
the  Boston  and  Albany  depot;  the  order 


THE  "HUB." 


229 


and  cleanliness  before  me,  is  in  grateful 
contrast  to  the  confusion  and  filth  I  have 
left  behind. 

Quietness  reigns.  The  sky  is  blue.  The 
air  pure ;  and  bracing  —  with  the  ther- 
mometer at  zero,  and  a  stiff  gale  from  the 
Northwest ! 

I  set  my  feet  upon  historic  soil. 

Abode  too  of  the  fine  arts;  nowhere  be- 
side so  critically  appreciated. 

Mecca  of  genius  !  Centre  of  triumphs  ! 
climaxed  by  the  "  Peace  Jubilee." 

Athenians  of  America!  justly  art  thou 
proud  of  thine  Athens,  creation's  Hub ! 

Are  my  proclivities  downward?  Am  I 
of  the  "  earth,  earthy  ?  "  Do  I  fraternize 
with  dirt? 

If,  after  this,  I  own  right  up,  and  say, 
"  Give  me  New  York  for  better  or  for 
worse ; "  all  Boston  will  howl  back  in  the 
affirmative. 

But  listen  — 


230 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


Once  more  at  home,  where  the  greater 
part  of  my  life  had  been  spent,  my  heart 
swelled  with  gratitude  that  I  was  again  one 
of  thy  citizens  ;  O,  Puritanical  city  of  Bos- 
ton ! 

To  be  sure,  within  thy  walls  I  had  waded 
through  seas  of  sorrow ;  but,  let  the  "  Past 
bury  its  own  dead." 

I  hoped  to  commence  life  anew. 


I  have  a  cousin  who,  in  the  course  of  his 
half  century  life,  has  brought  forth  two  orig- 
inal remarks. 

One,  I  have  already  given ;  the  other,  de- 
clared poverty  to  be  an  unmitigated  curse ! 

I  protested.  In  the  first  place,  the  dear 
companionship  of  friends  would  alleviate 
the  evil ;  in  the  second  place,  education 
would  rob  it  of  its  sting ;  in  the  third  place, 
one's  own  consciousness  of  talent  and 
mother  wit,  would  come  to  the  rescue ; 


THE  "HUB." 


231 


in  the  fourth  place,  the  world  owed  every- 
body a  living ;  which  everybody  was  a  fool 
if  he  did  not  get. 

The  reticence  of  my  cousin  was  his  chief 
virtue.  That  was  good  for  the  brief  re- 
sponse, "  TRY  IT  !  " 

Years  have  elapsed.  I  have  tried  it ;  and 
am  prepared  to  say  —  the  wisdom  of  the 
godlike  Socrates ;  the  sage  Plato ;  the  prac- 
tical Confucius  — pale  before  the  transcend- 
ent utterance  of  that  man ! 

Not  to  discuss  the  question  of  what  the 
world  really  owes  ;  it  is  stereotyped,  that  it 
is  a  mighty  hard  thing  now-a-days  to  make 
her  pay  her  just  debts. 

Talent,  I  hold  to  be  terribly  in  the  way, 
unless  it  has  a  wider  field  than  poverty  can 
afford,  in  which  to  follow  its  bent,  and  — 
operate. 

What  you  are  pleased  to  consider  your 
"  mother  wit,"  be  very  careful  not  to  venti- 
late, unless  you  are  tolerably  situated  in  a 
worldly  point  of  view. 


232  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

You  can  neither  say,  nor  do,  a  smart 
thing  in  reduced  circumstances. 

How  dare  you  expect  your  talent,  or 
your  wit  to  be  appreciated,  if  you  have 
lost  your  money?  "  Qui  perde  fiecher 

Poor  unfortunate  !  "  be  not  deceived  ;  " 
the  people  "  are  not  mocked ; "  whatever 
your  own  conception  of  ability,  others  will 
not  recognize  it,  unless  set  in  gold ! 

As  to  education  to  while  the  hours  of 
poverty well !  this  is  a  delicate  ques- 
tion ;  but,  at  the  risk  of  offending  the  scho- 
lastic, I  reiterate ;  that  the  most  important 
branch  of  knowledge,  next  "  Our  Lord's 
Prayer,"  to  be  instilled  —  at  least  into  the 
youthful,  female  mind  —  is  the  complex  art 
of  modern  cookery ! 

Then,  a  certain  livelihood  is  secured ;  no 
thanks  to  "  Belles-lettres  "  or  mathematics  1 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

THE    RECEPTION. 

"Going  tvith  £<iyly  in   the   morning  to   woo  the  world  with 
smiles." 

"  Is  met  by  those  way-faring  men  with  coldness,  suspicion,  and 
repulse." 

BUT  the  dear  companionship  of  friends  ? 

—  there  I  have  you  ! 

"  Thou  fool ! "  dost  thou  not  know,  that 

—  in  poverty  —  thy  friendships  are  a  myth! 
Take   a   walk  down   Washington  Street 

any  fine  day,  and  learn  for  yourself. 

Before  you  reach  the  "  Old  South  "  the 
fact  will  be  patent. 

It  was  patented  to  me  on  this  wise  — 
Entering  a  leading  store  in  that  fashion- 
able locality,  I  was  received  as  a  stranger 


234 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


No.  Strangers  are  entitled  to  courtesy.  I 
was  met,  as  would  be  the  foul  scum  of  so- 
ciety, for  daring  to  float  in  that  debarred 
direction ;  and  yet,  in  the  by-gone  days, 
many  is  the  time  I  have  tripped  on  "  light 
fantastic  toe  "  to  the  merry  music  of  "  Fish- 
er's Hornpipe,"  with  the  very  person  who 
thus  ignored  me ! 

Amid  all  my  humiliations  it  was  the  first 
time,  but  by  no  means  the  last,  that  I  had 
been  so  strangely  regarded ;  and  as  the 
final  "  feather  to  the  camel's  back,"  that 
completely  broke  me  down.  I  passed  the 
remainder  of  the  day  in  tears. 

I  would  not  shed  so  many  again,  though 
all  my  quondam  acquaintance  should  rise 
" en  masse"  to  crush  me  back  into  my  orig- 
inal elements.  Not  much ! 

And  another  —  in  whose  veins  every 
drop  of  blood  flowing,  is  as  mine  —  but  let 
him  pass !  I  fancy  upon  the  occasion  of  that 
well  improved  opportunity,  he  who  readeth 


THE  RECEPTION. 


235 


can  understand,  with  the  heart  searching- 
glare  of  my  wrathful  eyes,  I  managed  to 
avenge,  myself —  and  scorch  him  ! 

And  another  —  who,  in  the  far-off  hours 
of  girlish  intimacy,  had  so  entwined  herself 
around  my  heart-strings,  that  every  memory 
of  those  happiest  times  but  flash  before  me 
her  laughing  face,  looked  coldly ;  nay 
worse  ;  believed  me  capable  of  winking  at 
deeds,  the  abhorred  conception  of  which 
caused  my  very  soul  to  shudder! 

My  reputation !  the  conviction  was  forced 
upon  me ;  an  enemy  had  surely  tampered 
with  that.  I  know  — 

"  A  look  may  work  thy  ruin,  or  a  word  create  thy  wealth  "  — - 

but  could  so  foul  a  slander  have  arisen  from 
this  ? 

While  absent,  I  kept  house  four  weeks. 
During  that  time  two  disreputable  individ- 
uals contrived  to  insinuate  themselves  into 
my  good  graces  ;  and  through  ignorance  of 
their  style,  become  inmates  of  the  family. 


236  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Ascertaining  the  truth,  they  had  but 
short  notice  to  leave. 

The  odium  of  this  affair,  trifling  as  it 
was,  so  thoroughly  disturbed  me ;  that  I 
immediately  sacrificed  every  advantage,  and 
gave  up  my  new  home. 

In  my  great  need ;  and  though  perse- 
cuted, as  it  were,  for  very  righteousness' 
sake ;  many  believed  in  good  faith  that,  in 
the  city  of  New  York,  I  was  the  prosperous 
mistress  of  a  —  house  of  ILL  FAME  ! 

Believed ;  that  the  innocent  girl ;  the 
close  student ;  the  happy  wife ;  the  desolate 
widow ;  the  wretched  victim  of  another's  in- 
temperance ;  could  be  so  lost  to  herself,  to 
her  friends,  to  her  God ;  as  to  countenance 
a  life,  the  "steps  to  which  take  hold  on 
hell !  " 

But  one,  raised  his  voice  in  my  behalf. 

But  one,  contradicted  the  vile  aspersion. 

On  my  bended  knees  have  I  returned 
thanks  to  the  All  Powerful  for  raising  me 


THE  RECEPTION. 


237 


up  the  "  one "  friend,  in  that,  my  direst 
need. 

No  longer  do  I  wonder,  that  despairing 
kinsfolk  so  often  seek  to  recognize  their 
dead  at  the  gloomy  Morgue  ! 

And  the  other ;  would  I  could  give  his 
name !  who,  in  mercy,  saved  me  from  that 
last,  sad  resting-place. 

With  words  of  sympathy ;  offers  of  aid  ; 
he  brought  me  back  to  hope ;  and  his  per- 
sistent, Christian  kindness  — 

Held  me  back  —  from  appearing  unsum- 
moned,  before  the  "  Unknown!" 

Held  me  back  —  from  the  unblest  future 
of  the  deliberate  "  Suicide ! " 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 
"  OUR  LORD'S  PRAYER." 

"  Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven, 

Hallowed  be  thy  name. 

Thy  kingdom  come. 
Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven. 

Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread. 
And  forgive  us  our  trespasses,  as  we  forgive  those  who  trespass 

against  us. 

And  lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil ; 
For  thine  is  the  kingdom,  and  the  power, 
And  the  glory  —  forever  —  Amen." 

"  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep  ; 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep. 

If  I  should  die  before  I  wake — 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  take." 

IT  is  PAST  ! 

Day  is  softly  fading  in  the  west.     Night 
is  gently  coming  to  the  earth. 

I   sit  in  my  quiet  room ;  and   Memory 


"OUR  LORD'S  PRAYER:*  239 

forgetful  of  my  blessings ;  faithful  to  but 
half  her  mission ;  spreads  out  before  me  the 
loss  of  my  youth,  my  ambition,  my  property, 
my  reputation ! 

Serenely  I  consider  this  absence  of  all  the 
world  calls  good. 

From  the  bitter  ashes  of  earthly  disap- 
pointment has  arisen  upon  my  vision,  the 
heavenly  Star  of  Hope ! 

I  lift  mine  eyes  — 

They  fall  upon  my  youthful  husband ; 
the  man  to  whom,  before  angels  and  men, 
I  have  sworn  to  be  true. 

"  Clothed,  and  in  his  right  mind,"  he  is 
sitting  by  my  side. 

He  is  making  an  honest  effort  to  reform. 

He  is  engaged  in  useful  labor. 

Curses,  are  exchanged  for  prayers  ;  blows, 
for  loving  words ;  prodigality,  for  Christian 
economy. 

And  —  as  he  falls  upon  his  knees  before 
me  —  humbly,  and  with  tears,  imploring  my 


240 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


forgiveness  for  the  great  wrong  he  has 
done ;  the  words,  "  Forgive  us  our  trespasses, 
as  we  forgive  those  who  trespass  against 
us ;  "  burn  in  letters  of  fire  upon  the  wall ; 
and  I  KNOW  it  would  be  at  the  peril  of  my 
soul,  to  refuse. 

He,  forgiven,  will  cover  a  multitude  01 
my  sins ! 

Here,*  I  have  had  tribulation ! 

Hereafter,  face  to  face  with  the  ABSOLUTE, 
I  shall  have  compensation ! 

"At  even  time  it  will  be  light." 


THE  END. 


